XMen Forged: To Be Human
by Jason de L'Epee
Summary: Jason has arrived at the Institute, and his hopes of a rather peaceful training are quickly forgotten. It seems that he has not been forgotten by those he faced, and Jason will face temptations old and new. Will he come out strong, or be crushed?
1. Prologue

**X-MEN FORGED: TO BE HUMAN**

_By Jason de L'Epee_

FOREWARD: Did you honestly think I would keep you waiting that long? Hell no! Now, this being a new work, there will be changes in the structure. Because of the episodic structure that is X-Men Evolution, my chapters will structure more to be like episodes, where each chapter is a mini-plot as a part of the overall plot, much like how The Writer With No Name does his work with the Marvel/DC crossovers—which you should take the time to read. That being said, many of the chapters themselves will either be adapts of choice episodes of the show, or original that borrows elements from episodes. Either-or, it really doesn't matter. All I know is that it's going to be fun with all the creative license I have access to. Of course, as a consequence, updates will be bigger but longer to update.

I will say that because of the demands of the other fanfiction realm I contribute to (Sonic the Hedgehog), updates may be a bit slow as I have left Sonic in a fight with Metal-Sonic in my other work "Shadows of Doom: Night of the Hunter." Ideally, I hope to come with an update with chapters for both. Whether this will work in practice is another story.

Besides that, there isn't much to say. Enjoy part 2 of 4: _To Be Human_.

**PROLOGUE:**

"_Take me away from time and season__  
><em>_Far far away we'll sing with reason__  
><em>_Prepare a throne of stars above me__  
><em>_As the world once known will leave me__  
><em>_Take me away upon a plateau__  
><em>_Far far away from fears and shadow__  
><em>_Strengthen my heart in times of sorrow__  
><em>_Light the way to bright tomorrows__  
><em>_Answer our call in desperate hours__  
><em>_Shelter our fall from earthly powers__  
><em>_Temper our souls with flame and furnace__  
><em>_Bear us toward a noble purpose__  
><em>_Heaven hides nothing in its measure__  
><em>_Mortal men blinded by false treasure__  
><em>_Formless and vanquished we shall travel__  
><em>_Shield and sword will guide our battle…"_

"Take Me Away" – Globus © 2006

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><p>"<em>Do you believe in destiny? It really doesn't matter if you do. If you don't believe in something, does it mean it does not exist? Perhaps it's time for you to believe, young one…" A voice dripped in the darkness. Each syllable seemed to stir the dark mist of the land. Whom was it talking to?<em>

"_You are destined to become something more than human. Why settle for mere existence when chance has dealt you the winning card of history? You can feel it in your fingers, surging through each fiber like lightning. You command that power. Use it." _

_As the mists stirred from the doleful tones of the voice, a shadowy figure leered through the mist, tall and imposing._

"_You are destined to become one of the most powerful beings in existence, young one. I can show you the way, young alchemist…" It rose a hand, offering. "Join me!"_

Jason's eyes snapped open, the dawn's early light banishing the dream from existence. Not daring to move, his eyes scanned where he was before he relaxed. He was in the back of the family van, cruising down I-35 at a relaxed pace. Jason sat up in his seat, rubbing his eyes as he slowly woke up. Judging by the sunlight on the horizon, they had to be getting close to Dallas.

"You already awake, son?" whispered a gentle voice from the driver's seat.

Jason looked to see his father, and smiled. "No thanks to your driving, yeah…" he replied the same way.

His father laughed quietly. "So you did miss me…"

"Not to be a little kid…" Jason rubbed his eyes before continuing. "…but are we nearly there?"

Patrick chuckled. "We're getting pretty close to the airport now. Good thing too; your flight leaves at seven."

Jason had to breathe a bit. They've been preparing for this day for a few months now, but it wasn't any easier. Only a few months before, Jason had been discovered as a mutant, but after a deadly ordeal with nature that nearly killed Jason as well as his father. The incident had somehow triggered a powerful presence of alchemic energy within Jason's body to the point that his fingertips were almost constantly twitching from the overload. If his hands joined together at all, the energy builds to a critical point, and with it Jason can change just about anything into something else, providing he knew or guessed correctly what it was made of.

During the months, Jason had been practicing the use of his power in secret in the basement of the house, taking wooden blocks from the garage and transmuting them into various other shapes, trying to refine his attention to detail and trying to get a grasp at what his limits really are. He remembered that night on the rooftop of the hospital clearly, and Magneto had stated that he was the closest thing being a god. Jason had tried to see where his boundaries did lie, but he couldn't tell. When he was free, he tried the library, but nothing had anything about alchemy besides on what he already heard in school in world history, which was good as nothing. The only way he could find his limits would be to go all out, but he couldn't do that while escaping notice.

"Here we are…" Jason heard his father say. "…the airport." Jason couldn't help but notice a sigh in those words.

Almost on cue, his mother, asleep in the front passenger's seat, began to waken, due to the slowing of the van no doubt. "Oh, are we here?"

"Yeah, we just got here." Jason said, and found that he couldn't say anything else. What more could be said. The moment he both looked forward to and dreaded had finally arrived.

The whole family was quiet as they found a vacant parking space, and walked the long road towards the terminal. Even nearly 7 AM in the morning, DFW International was still bustling, a perfect madhouse as hapless travelers were either coming in to board, or leaving the terminal after a long flight. Jason found himself among the former and with growing apprehension he led the way towards the front desk to get information about his flight. As it turned out, the flight was briefly delayed ten minutes because of early bad weather along the flight path, but was expected to clear quickly.

Jason was thankful for that. This year had been nothing short of scary with its weather. A few days after he met with the X-Men, the sky simply exploded over Oklahoma. It was bad enough to hear of the tornado outbreaks that happened in the south and in nearby Missouri, killing hundreds, but having another violent outbreak so close to home was almost too much for Jason. While no violent tornadoes came close to Red Rock, the howling wind and pouring rain brought fresh the fateful night of April 15th. Being raised in Oklahoma, he was no stranger to thunderstorms and tornadoes, and before he always shrugged at them while at the same time taking them seriously. All that changed that night. Jason now grew nervous at the discussion of storms, and when a particularly bad one rolled through, he took refuge in the basement automatically and completely withdrew away from friends and family when he did.

Jason shook the brooding thoughts out of his head as he wordlessly placed his luggage on the conveyor. As he watched his belongings disappear into the labyrinth of conveyors beyond the walls, he thought about the summer that had gone by at what some may call an uncomfortable pace. Most of the time, Jason was at home. When he wasn't, he was with his parents talking to the school regarding the transcript transfer to his new high school, as well as doing the necessary paperwork that the Professor of the Institute would need to have custody of him in New York. Moreover, he had to repeatedly go to Oklahoma City to visit both a neurologist and a neuropsychiatrist. That was an experience to remember, to be sure. The neurologist wasn't too thrilled for Jason to relocate to New York, but in the end, he recommended the Neurological Institute of New York, in the event that Jason did indeed have Charcot's.

Every time Jason thought about his doctor visits, he would have a brief glimpse at his mortality which depressed him, however reassuring the doctors were. The tests showed nothing to indicate he had Charcot's, but at the same time, there was no improvement in the traumatized regions of his cerebrum where the obvious scarring from the tornado and Magneto have remained. Jason doubted they would ever heal, ever deepening his sense of mortality.

"Are you all right, son?" his father's voice drifted into his dark thoughts.

Jason looked up, slightly jumping at hearing his father's voice. "Yeah…just recollecting this summer."

Patrick, Jason's father, understood. "Yes, it certainly has been eventful."

Jason allowed himself the luxury of a smile. "I can safely say that I never imagined my junior year to start like this."

Patrick smiled as well, placing his hand on Jason's shoulder. "Neither did any of us."

Jason looked at his father, eyes lingering on the wheelchair that bound him. While Jason had received critical brain trauma, his father had lost the use of his legs when the car they were in had been dropped on Patrick's unconscious body, specifically, on the lower back. Despite the fact Jason was severely injured, Jason had tried to get the car off of him, and as he too drifted out of conscious, his powers plied the car back on itself; crude, but efficient.

Patrick noticed Jason's look at his wheelchair. "I consider myself lucky that this is all that happened. I heard about what that tornado did. Four died that night, and we could have been among them."

Jason looked away. "Yeah…"

"And then there…" Patrick had to stop.

Jason saw where this was going, and looked down. Tragedy had not ended on that night. On May 24th, two days after they met with Professor Xavier, another deadly twister had gone through some rural areas near Guthrie, Oklahoma. Nine died, and one was an old friend. From April to May, there has been so much death from tornadoes and it impacted so many. Hundreds; hundreds were killed in a month's time. It was a terrible, terrible spring.

"And there I go again…" Patrick said, his eyes wet.

Jason shook his head. "It's just too much…it's just feels too much to be natural. What the hell did we do to piss off God?"

"Nothing more than what we have already done," Patrick said calmly. "We live in a world where things must cycle. We have peace; we have war. We have day; we have night. We have good; we have evil. It will be like this until the world finally has had enough."

"Yeah, and God help the poor saps who will be around on that day."

By this time, Susan, Jason's mother, had returned from a visit to the lavatory. "Did you hear any other delays since I was gone?"

Jason shook his head. "I haven't heard anything. Looks like it will be on schedule…or rather on the new schedule."

Susan looked apprehensive. "Oh, I hope we remembered everything."

Patrick smiled. "I'm sure we did, Susie..."

"I don't want Jason flying over Kentucky and suddenly realizing he left his toothbrush on the counter back home."

Jason pursed his lips. "I'm fairly certain I packed that in the duffel."

"That's not the point!" Susan exclaimed, but sighed. "Yes, we did pack everything. Oh, Jason, I'm going to miss you so much." Susan gave her son one firm hug out of the blue.

Jason had to keep his balance on the chairs, but relaxed. "Yeah, I love you too."

Patrick reached over and took Jason's hand. "As do I, son, and I'm very proud of you."

Jason blinked and smiled. "Yeah…"

Then, over the intercom rang out a voice: "Attention all passengers. Flight AA-1107 to New York is now boarding at this time. Please proceed to Gate 3 for boarding. We repeat. Flight AA-1107 to New York is now boarding at this time. Please proceed to Gate 3 for boarding."

Jason's heart began to race. "That's my flight," he said, standing up.

"Jason, wait…" Patrick reached up to him.

Jason looked down at his father. "What is it?"

"We know that things might be tough at the Institute, and you might get homesick when things get rough on you. Which is why, we…the family…got together to get you something so you can reach us at any time."

Jason looked at his mother, who took out a small object that resembled a miniature laptop from one of her bags. "It took us a bit to find one that looked good, but thankfully, we did…"

Jason took the thing in its hands to inspect it. It was really a very small laptop computer, not much bigger than a typical high school math textbook. It had a built in webcam and wireless internet access so that he could video chat with anyone, more importantly his family. Jason looked at his parents, a fresh wetness to his eyes. "I love it. Thanks…" Jason packed it in his carry-on backpack.

"Now, I expect to hear from you a lot," Patrick said, somewhat sternly. "We didn't give that to you so you could play games or have it sit on your desk." He calmed some. "Just let us know you're all right once in a while."

"Please," reiterated Susan.

"Don't worry, I will."

The intercom sounded another announcement for passengers to board the plane for New York. Jason's heart skipped again. "Hey, tell Beth that I love her and I hope to play with her again. Damn, I wish she was here…"

Patrick smiled. "Don't worry, we will, son. Now hurry, you'll miss it!"

Susan had to will herself to not cry. "Please be careful, son."

"Write to us a lot!" Patrick said. "I mean it!"

Jason nodded. "I love you both." Jason gave his Mom and Dad a quick hug. "I'll…I guess I'll see you later."

"We know, son." Patrick nodded. "Now go!"

"Ok!" Jason hoisted his backpack over his shoulder and headed briskly for Gate 3, but not without several glances over his shoulder to his parents, who were waving back at him. Soon, too soon, Jason lost eye contact with them and suddenly felt incredibly lonely. Walking deliberately, he headed through the terminal, through the loading gate which led straight into the massive jetliner now parked along the terminal.

Jason was incredibly thankful that the Professor had funded this ticket, and more importantly, he did it first class. Jason had never flown before, and he felt better he would handle it in first class than in economy. That didn't ground the butterflies in his stomach though, and he looked out the window as he waited for the plane to take him away to a new place and a new life. Jason looked around the cabin but didn't really see it; his thoughts were far away. He thought about the life he was now leaving behind, and the life that he was just hours from beginning. It was like going to high school all over again, only a little stronger. He hazarded a thought that this must be what the first day of college would feel like.

He espied the seatbelt light come on and wordlessly secured himself in, awaiting takeoff. His thoughts immediately switched track as his apprehensiveness gave a new face. He never flew before, and while he heard that travel by flying was statistically the safest, flight accidents were definitely among the more devastating.

"First time?" said a voice beside him.

Jason looked to see a flight attendant that was handing out chewing gum—to ease the pressure changes in the ear as the plane rose from the ground. Jason gave a quick nod. "You can say that." Jason regretted grabbing a soda from the fridge before getting into the van early that morning; that caffeine hadn't washed out yet.

"It happens to all the first-timers, although not very many first timers get to fly first-class off the bat. Someone pulled some strings to get you on here."

"_Having an apparently rich Professor does help,"_ Jason thought with a smile.

"Anyway, just relax, sir. Have some chewing gum."

"Thanks." Jason took the chewing gum and popped it into his mouth. As he chewed, he pulled out a stress ball for each of his fidgety hands from his backpack, thanking whatever luck allowed his backpack to be used as carry-on. Airport security was more paranoid than a hospital full of schizophrenics, and he was sure he would have had to do something creative to get it on. Heck, he was more worried about the backpack than the potential pat-down.

He found himself finally relaxing as the polyurethane balls rolled about in his hands. He remembered his first attempt at stress balls in the hospital. He had triggered his alchemic powers to cause the balls to melt over his hands, burning them. It wasn't one of his favorite memories, but it was the one that brought to his attention there was something different about him.

Then, he felt it. That subtle vertigo when the plane just begins to move, then the slight pulls of the G-forces from the acceleration, then the feeling of sinking as the plane left the ground. Jason scarcely breathed as the plane climbed miles into the air, and he was sure his eyes were bulging. Finally, the plane leveled off, and the motion discomfort faded as it did. Daring to breathe, he looked around the cabin, seeing that no one else save himself had really seemed affected by the plane's ascent. "Great," Jason thought with an inward sigh. "I just managed to make myself look like a complete idiot. Smooth move, knucklehead."

Spitting out the gum into the wrapper, he looked out the window and marveled at the view. He always enjoyed clear days, but seeing it from up here was sublime. If he guessed correctly, he would be looking northwards all the way up. He would see the Great Plains in all their glory…loosely speaking.

As he leaned back in his seat, he began to realize that there was no going back now. He was on his way to New York, and a new life as a mutant. He had a feeling things were going to be tough…but at the same time, he guessed this next semester at least would be very interesting. He remembered talking to Jean about the Institute, as well as the telepathic conversation he had with the Professor. But most of all, he remembered Piotr. They guy looked big and strong enough to lift a safe without a sweat, but inside beat the heart of a person that would do anything to protect those he cared about. Last time he checked, Piotr had only confided his deepest darkest secrets with him and his father back at that hospital. Jason could only wonder if Piotr had opened up to the Professor or not. He would have to ask the next chance he got.

Jason smiled. Man, he still has seven hours on this flight and he was already excited for his arrival. However, he knew he would miss his family dearly. Tonight would be hard, being so far away. Now he saw the importance of the gift he got, and he would certainly use it. Hopefully before tonight he could set it up. His heart fluttered a bit at the thought of being so long away from his family. All summer he questioned whether he was ready for this; he doubted he ever would be...but maybe, that was the adventure of it.

It would certainly be quite the adventure, he figured. Summer was officially over, but now the real adventure was about to begin; it was time to test his mettle. And from there? Well, that's was just part of his new adventure.

* * *

><p><em>Well, there we have it. The Prologue to what just might be one of my biggest works yet. One thing you need to remember about this as well as remembering the one before is that the last one is really a giant prologue to this new fic. Yeah, an 80,000 word prologue. The real story is about to begin.<em>

_Here's a preview of what is to come of __Chapter 1: First Day__:_

_Jason has arrived at the Insitute, along with the spirited group that would come to be known as the New Mutants. After some rigorous testing to see how his mutant abilities have manifested, it is now time for Jason's first day of school at Bayville High. Will his first day be relaxing, or will a certain hoppity punk stink things up for him? Find out next time! _


	2. Chapter 1: First Day

**CHAPTER 1:**** First Day**

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><p>The world shown through hues of blue and red as a bald wheelchair-bound man gazed upon a changing world with mixed emotion. Things were progressing faster than he had anticipated. Mutants were growing larger in number. While "normal" humans were still in a great majority, it wouldn't take that many generations for mutantkind to begin to teeter that balance. When that happened, things would get ugly.<p>

Yet he hoped, he grasped on that hope that if by teaching others like himself that their powers can be used for good and for harmony, then people may grow to accept mutants as one of their own. Here, in the United States a land of opportunity and freedom, was their best chance for mutants to become an example to those in other countries.

And so he, Professor Charles Xavier, sometimes known as Professor X, started the Xavier Institute for Gifted Children, and used his family mansion as the place to house it. Already he had taken in six students, and then there were three other instructors besides himself, bringing to total to ten. For most of last year, that remained unchanged…

…but this year, that would change dramatically. Opening his eyes, he removed a peculiar device from his head and laid it in a console. The man looked over the results on the computer. Using Cerebro, he could see a general look at what the world looks like where mutants were becoming more numerous. Other ways he used it was when it picked up a new signature of significant interest and track it. This summer, Cerebro was busy as signatures were becoming more numerous. Throughout the summer, the Professor had been gathering more students, and now the number had jumped from ten to seventeen, and that number would surely grow. Even now, there was one coming later that afternoon, and this was one that the Professor felt was among the most crucial recruitments he has ever done.

Jason Downs, a now 17-year-old from Red Rock, Oklahoma, possessed a power that Cerebro had no documentation of when his powers first manifested on his fateful night. It was only through observation "first-hand" and a consultation with his dear friend, Dr. Stephen Strange, did he discover Jason's power: alchemy, the ability to manipulate matter and energy of any sort, providing the manipulation stayed within the restrictions placed by the simple laws of physics. Jason was truly unique; it was a challenging battle over Jason's soul, and he had to battle a former close friend of his own: Magneto. It had been close, and Jason nearly lost his life, but thanks to Piotr Rasputin opening up, Jason was persuaded.

It was four months after that day in April, and now it was the middle of August, mere days before the new school year would begin. Through the summer, Professor Charles had worked with whatever needed to be done to ensure Jason's safe relocation to the Institute. Jason was a special case in more ways than one, so great care was always needed. And now, today, their fruits of their labors would be rewarded. Jason was due to arrive at the airport in a few hours, no doubt anxious to be here.

The Professor opened his eyes, and his mind travelled back into the reality around him: the large globular room that housed Cerebro. Somewhat wearily, he put the computer into standby mode and turned his wheelchair around to leave the room. Upon exiting, he found a tall chocolate-skinned woman with contrasting snow-white hair waiting for him outside the room. She greeted the Professor, "Good afternoon, Professor."

"The same to you, Storm. Did you wish to speak to me?"

"Only to remind you that Jason's plane is arriving within an hour, and knowing New York City traffic, I would advise leaving soon." Ororo smiled.

The Professor returned the smile. "Indeed. Prepare the car; I will join you shortly."

"Yes, Professor…" Ororo, or Storm as she is usually called because of her control of the weather, turned to go, but something made her pause.

The Professor was quick to notice. "Was there something else?"

"Not really…" Ororo said plainly, but slowly voiced her thoughts. "It's just…I said I would take responsibility for Jason because of what happened those months ago…"

The Professor folded his hands together. Storm had blamed herself for when Jason had a nervous breakdown on the roof, and his powers overloaded into a raw alchemic storm that nearly destroyed the hospital. It happened because Jason had witnessed Storm's power to summon storms first-hand, and his mind had flashed to the night he was nearly killed by the tornado. "And?"

"…and I'm still concerned if Jason will ever allow me to teach him."

The Professor closed his eyes. "Ororo, what happened on the rooftop was something we could never have predicted. Had you not summoned your rains, the hospital would have been in serious trouble. Jason's trauma was a complication we didn't count on. Whether he now associates storms with you or no is something we will need to discover as he lives here."

Ororo looked down as she resigned to that fact.

"But don't worry, Storm. Jason doesn't seem the kind of young man to maliciously hold you responsible for something like that. His trauma may still be there, but ultimately it will be up to him to decide how he deals with it. However, I do think it's a good idea to show him that there is nothing to fear of you or your powers, and you already do that. Just be the same way, my good friend."

Ororo smiled. "Thank you, Professor."

"Now, please, prepare the car. I don't wish to have Jason wait for us long at the airport." He watched Ororo leave for the elevator that led to the upstairs of the Institute, and then telepathically called out. _"Scott? Jean? Hank? Storm and I must leave for the airport to retrieve Jason. In the meantime, watch out newer students while I'm gone."_

At once, Jean replied telepathically. _"We'll do our best, Professor…"_

The Professor could hear Scott as well. _"Easier said than done, but we'll do our best."_

The Professor chuckled at that. _"Now, I won't be gone long…"_ Mischievously, he added. _"Good luck."_

"_We just may need it, Charles…"_ Hank mentally sighed.

Professor Xavier closed his telepathy and made his way towards another elevator himself. The new students, collectively called "The New Mutants" to distinguish them from the X-Men. They were quite the spirited bunch, to be sure. Jason would be the eighth student to join the Institute, but because of what has happened recently, he would certainly have the attention of most of those who were here. While the New Mutants had no real idea of Jason's significance, or even that he was coming, the X-Men had all seen Jason's power rage on that rooftop. They also had the Reader's Digest version of the circumstances surrounding Jason.

The Professor rode up the elevator as he continued to consider Jason. During the summer months, Cerebro had repeatedly reported that Jason had been active in using his powers, but only in his own home. He surmised that Jason was practicing his powers in privacy repeatedly, either to control them properly, or fine-tuning them. Either way, if he was successful in doing so, it would be a bonus for his training. He had set up this afternoon to be a preliminary exercise for Jason, so he could get into the routine of the Institute. School starts the day after tomorrow, so there wasn't much time to evaluate Jason's abilities. Thankfully, Jason was already registered into the school system; that just left the tests Jason needed to endure to get a scope of his abilities…

…providing the buildings lasted long enough for Jason to train him, the Professor thought with a smile.

* * *

><p>The forests of Quebec were often peaceful and serene, a great getaway from metropolitan life. It was the middle of August, and the sun's rays were at their strongest this time of year, baking the forests, and as a result, they expelled hot, humid air. Despite the heat, the forest retained its beauty as waves of water vapor rippled through the air, all alone in the wild. More or less, that was the goal of a biker travelling down the roads, nothing keeping him company except his motorcycle and the wind in his face. He was a short man, but well-built and packing serious attitude; so much so that his height is overlooked. The man called himself "Logan," and he needed solitude more than most people may ever need, but that was due to his nature. His instincts called to him to get out from civilization once in a while, and so he would take long bike rides into the forests of Canada.<p>

As he rode down the highway, he espied a modest gas stop alongside the road. Timely; he was just thinking about the idea that he needed a bottle of ice water real soon. He pulled his midnight-blue motorcycle into the stop, and walked on in. Next to the elderly shopkeeper, there was no one else here. Logan took the time to look around the quaint store, until he espied the newsstand. Curiosity got the better of him and he peered at the headlines. Mostly, it wasn't anything interesting…but one headline caught his eye. It was mainly a header, but the title alone caught his attention: "Parliament To Vote on So-Called Mutant Agenda."

Logan's eyes narrowed. He was Canadian-born, and he didn't like the sound of what the government was planning to do. Of course, the United States wouldn't be any better. This was something for Chuck to see, to be sure.

The shopkeeper's voice interrupted his thoughts. "You want that paper?"

Logan looked at the shopkeeper who hadn't left behind the desk. Picking up the newspaper, he came towards him. "That's why I'm holdin' it, bub." Then he remembered what he initially came in for. "And a bottled water too, and make sure it's cold."

The shopkeeper understood those conditions. He turned to the fridge behind the counter. "Warm weather we're having…"

"_You can say that again…"_ Logan thought as he felt sweat drip down his neck from being outside for so long. Logan reached down into his pocket and pulled out a modest amount of currency to pay for the water and the paper. No sooner did the shopkeeper put down the glass bottle of water, Logan snatched it up, exchanging it for the money.

The shopkeeper was just ringing it up, when he thought he heard a high-pitched _shing_ sound, quickly followed up by what sounded like a slice. Looking up in surprise, he saw the top part of the glass bottle rattle to a standstill on the counter, completely cleaved off. The old man didn't even have time to marvel at this as Logan placed the other half of the now-empty water bottle on the countertop with a ping. The old man looked to see Logan turn to leave.

"Recycle that," Logan called back, taking the paper with him out the door, leaving the mystified shopkeeper to his own affairs. Logan smiled a bit as he mounted his motorcycle, put on his helmet and took off with a roar down the highway.

Unbeknownst to him, someone was watching him from afar. Nearly a thousand feet away from the store was a cliff, covered with trees except for the overhand itself. Perched on top of it was a wild man, who appeared to be more wild than man. Complete with untamed lion-colored hair, long black sharp claw-like nails, and ratty clothing, the man seemed like it was part beast. With its nostrils flared, it watched the dot leave from the gas stop with a predator-like expression. With a growl, displaying his razor sharp teeth, it leaped off the cliff and disappeared quickly to the woods, intent on seeking its prey.

* * *

><p><em>One hour later…<em>

Passengers streamed into the terminal, all having a shared look of fatigue from a multi-hour travel across half the country, all her for their respective reasons. Not sticking out of the crowd as he came in was a relatively tall teen who's only identifying mark was a y-shaped scar on the right side of his face. Jason looked around the terminal, and was startled to see how crazy this terminal was compared to the DFW Airport. His mind chided him for being surprised; after all, this was New York City.

He made a beeline for the luggage conveyors, and thankfully didn't have to wait too long for his two suitcases. Scooping them up, he lugged them across the terminal to the waiting area. The time on the screens said it was now 3:27 PM. Jason suddenly remembered he needed to sync his watch to Eastern Time. Finding a seat, he worked on his watch while thinking about what he should do next. He had no idea where to go in this place. Should he wait here, or find a phone to call the Professor? He suddenly remembered the pamphlet of the Institute that was stuffed in his bag, the one he got from Jean when he was in the hospital. He took off his backpack and started to fish around inside the bag.

"_That won't be necessary, Jason…"_

Jason physically jumped at hearing that gentle voice inside his head. He was alarmed at first, but then he remembered who that was. Smiling, he thought, _"You can never be too sure, Professor…"_

"_Quite so."_ Jason could practically hear the smile. _"I trust your flight went smoothly?"_

"_For the most part, although I think I could have lived without the Jennifer Love Hewitt movie. I mean, no offense to Ms. Hewitt, but those kinds of movies aren't my cup of java."_

"_Well, I wouldn't know. Anyway, do you have everything with you?"_

"_Yes, sir."_ Jason gave his luggage a brief one-over. _"I'm ready to go. Are you already here?"_

"_Yes, we haven't waited long. If you look up and towards your right, you should be able to see us."_

Jason automatically looked up and to his right. Smiling, he espied a bald man in a wheelchair, accompanied by a chocolate-skinned woman with snow-white hair. When he saw the woman, something clicked inside his head that there was something about his woman that made him uneasy. Dismissing it as paranoia, he stood up and heaved his suitcases towards his waiting party. _"All right, I'm on the way…"_ Upon arrival, he nodded to the Professor. "Hey, it's been a while."

"That is has," the Professor said, smiling. "I assume you have already met Storm?" He motioned to the woman.

Again, that paranoid feeling zapped through Jason's head, causing his right hand to twitch enough to nearly dislodge the suitcase it held. Recovering himself, he said. "Yeah, I think so. You were on the rooftop that night, right?"

Ororo smiled pleasantly. "Yes, I was... I'm glad to see you under better circumstances."

Jason couldn't help but smile. Storm seemed to be a pleasant enough woman. Why should he distrust her like his instincts are pestering him to do? "Yeah, you don't have to chew that cabbage twice."

The Professor gestured out the door. "We should go; there is much to do before school starts in a couple of days."

"Oh yeah? Like what?" Jason asked.

"It would be best to discuss this in the car, because it's not for all ears to hear."

Jason nodded in comprehension; this was mutant stuff and needed to be kept secret. "All right, then we'd better go." Jason heaved up the suitcases. "Lead the way." With that, the three left the terminal and Jason followed them to a limousine, to which Jason had to say. "Wow, I certainly wasn't expecting this."

The Professor smiled at that. "You can go ahead and stow away your belongings in the trunk, as Storm helps me get in the car."

"All right." Jason looked just in time to see the trunk pop open at the rear. Wordlessly he placed his belongings into the trunk, all the while watching to see one of the doors slide open on the car, letting out an automatic lift for wheelchairs. It didn't take long for Jason to put away the luggage—although he kept his backpack with him—as well as the Professor to get into the vehicle himself. Jason waited for the Professor to get settled in before entering himself. Bucking himself in, he ignored the car as it lurched forward to begin the drive towards the Institute. "Well, here we go…"

The Professor folded his hands in front of him. "Yes, a new chapter of your life begins."

Jason fished out a stress ball from his backpack and toyed with it in his hand. "I have to say that this is pretty strange. I feel so out of place…"

"As do everyone else who first discovers their respective mutations…"

"Well, there's that…but most of all, I never thought I'd see the day when I'd ride in the back of a limo."

Jason sobered a bit. "But yeah. This is definitely a new ball park. I remember the talk we had with my parents, but I still don't know what to expect."

"You can't always expect to learn what you may face before you arrive. That's a part of life; it forces us to grow and evolve. At the Institute, you can be free to learn how to use your powers in safety, and we'll be there to help you through the challenges that you will face. Granted, it will not be easy, but together, we and the X-Men will help you through it."

"The X-Men?"

"Yes, you've already met some of them on the hospital roof. Do you remember?"

Jason looked down. "To be honest, it's rather blurry, and I've kind of let it be so. It's not something I really want to remember."

"I understand. Most of the X-Men arrived to help you when you lost control of your powers."

"See, I don't remember that at all."

"I'm not surprised." The Professor thought about his next question, but he needed to be sure. "Do you remember your conversations with Magneto at all?"

A mix of anger and pain flashed across Jason's face briefly, and the Professor caught it. "He's the main reason I want to forget that night."

"I understand, but I must ask you this. I think it would be wise to not inform the rest of our students on Magneto."

Jason looked strangely at the Professor. "Ok, but why?"

"Magneto is one of the most dangerous foes we've ever had to face, and while I am proud of our students' progress, no training could ever prepare them for such a man like Magneto."

Jason had to agree to that. Magneto was powerful _and_ a manipulator. Jason still had a hard time trying to figure out just how he was able to face him.

"The only ones at the Institute that know about Magneto are Logan, Piotr, Storm, Hank and myself. Now it's a secret you share. Magneto is not someone you can just fight; he requires a more careful approach. So for now, I ask you to not mention Magneto to the rest of the students."

Jason sighed, but ultimately said. "I'm just the rookie. If that's what you want, ok. But I will go on record to say that I don't like this."

"I know, but ultimately it is for the best."

Jason didn't answer right away, but finally nodded. "All right."

The Professor smiled. "Thank you." Leaning back in his wheelchair, he continued. "When we arrive at the Institute, we'll talk more about what we need to do. In the meantime, feel free to ask any other questions."

Jason nodded. "Ok, for starters: how Peter doing?"

* * *

><p><em>Some time later…<em>

Back at the Institute, things were peaceful…in retrospect. Scott and Jean sat on the front steps of the Institute, watching the newest students enjoy the hot summer day while beating the heat with lemonade. Like all the students here—along with the instructors—Scott and Jean were mutants.

Scott Summers was a serious-minded seventeen-year-old who took on a great amount of responsibility for the students, possibly because he was among the first students to come to this Institute. His mutation granted him to fire deadly optic blasts from his eyes, and if he focused them, they could sear through just about anything. However, he was unable to control them and so was constantly wearing red-quartz sunglasses that kept his optic blasts in check, as well as holding the world he saw in shades of red. Because of this, his other name was the "Cyclops."

Jean Grey was a responsible seventeen-year-old, whose trademark chestnut hair fluttered gently in the breeze. She was by far among the most beautiful women to walk the earth, but she wouldn't let that get to her head. She was kind and always sought to help anyone in need. Her mutant abilities granted her telekinetic and telepathic abilities. She was also the only student here that did not have another name; no one could decide on one.

These two were often the team leaders for the X-Men, and when Professor X and the rest of the instructors were away for whatever reason, they more or less took charge of the mansion as the Professor confided them. Right now, Hank McCoy was the only instructor here, but with the task of watching over the new students, it required more than two eyes...and maybe the patience of all the saints.

Right now though, it was calm enough. Scott watched to see a Frisbee slice through the air away from them, only to be followed by a thin sandy-red-haired girl. Then, the girl turned into a red wolf and leaped up gracefully to bring the Frisbee down to earth. The wolf-girl was Rahne Sinclair, a Scottish lass of fourteen. Her ability to turn to a wolf and back granted her the name "Wolfsbane."

Turning back into a human, she heaved the Frisbee back the way it came, towards a Brazilian youth of seventeen, Roberto Da Costa. Looking up with a grin on his face, he ran after the Frisbee, but found Rahne had overshot him. However, he was not deterred. Leaping into the air, he suddenly erupted into sun-like flame and his body turned into a black silhouette of himself. Energized so, he flew after the Frisbee. His power enabled him to absorb the sun's rays to become a supercharged version of himself, capable of flight and super strength as well as limited projection of light and heat, earning him the name "Sunspot."

His flight was short-lived, for once he snagged the Frisbee, he depowered himself…but his momentum carried him towards an unsuspecting eleven-year-old boy who was walking along, reading a comic book and enjoying an apple. Roberto cried out a warning when he noticed, but it was too late. With a rather glorious collision, both sprawled and rolled across the ground. Roberto quickly recovered himself to see if the kid was alright…only to find there were now six identical versions of the kid he crashed into, all showing various forms of confusion. The multiplied boy was Jamie Madrox, a boy who's X-Gene manifested earlier than most, and it granted him to nearly endlessly multiply with free-thinking clones of himself, providing he could holster the kinetic energy to do it. The rather innocent-acting but often clumsy kid was also called "Multiple."

Meanwhile, two other boys were enjoying what looks like a casual game of catch, but when one boy overthrows his playmate, a light-brown haired boy quickly shoots off a chilling wave from his hands, creating a graceful ice slide that catches the ball and rolls it right into the boy's hands. Robert Drake, or Bobby as he preferred to be called, was a fifteen-year-old mutant who was carefree but also pretty bright for his age. His mutation gave him the ability to lay down solid ice into any shape or form he desired, granted him the brand "Iceman." Smiling mischievously, he heaved the ball back towards his playmate, overthrowing him on purpose.

His playmate, a sandy-haired Southern youth, Sam Guthrie, saw that he had no hope to catch the ball…at least conventionally. Going off at a run, he suddenly jumped into the air and blasted away at near-rocket velocities. Twisting around, he caught the ball easily but not without plowing through a brick wall. Such an impact would have left a normal human as a smear, but Sam got up without a scratch, waving to Bobby that he caught the ball. Sam's mutation enabled him to rocket himself like a cannonball, and while in this form, he was virtually indestructible, earning him the name "Cannonball."

While others played, others chatted near the steps where Scott and Jean were sitting. However, Scott frowned when he espied a short-haired blond girl with an obvious trouble-making streak had sent over what looked like a cherry bomb she created towards the three others. There was a loud pop that startled the others, while the girl, Tabitha Smith, laughed at their expressions. Because of her ability to make small-grade explosives, she was called "Boom-Boom." Her targets were not nearly so jubilant at her practical joke, and decided that payback was due. One's hand started crackling with electricity—Ray "Berserker" Carter—an Oriental girl's hands shot sparks like fireworks—Jubilation "Jubilee" Lee—and a Brazilian girl's hands lit up with lava—Amara "Magma" Crestmere; despite their differences in their powers, their intent was clear, and Tabitha noticed.

Scott and Jean could only sigh at the merry chase. Amara's lava ball headed their way and Jean caught it with her telekinesis and let the sit a good distance until it cooled. "I think we may have bitten off a little more than we can chew."

"You can say that again," Scott said. "I'm still surprised they haven't destroyed the Institute yet."

"I wouldn't jinx it," Jean said with a smile.

Scott playfully placed a hand over his mouth, but Jean could tell he was smiling underneath. After a little bit of time, he lowered his hand. "So, another school year…"

Jean sighed. "Yep. This summer did go awfully fast. Scarier yet, we're half-way done with our time in high school."

Scott's eyes blinked underneath his red shades. "You know, I didn't even think about that."

"That's why I'm here to remind you."

Scott smiled. That was one of the many reasons he really liked Jean, and not just as a friend. Yet, there was a very obvious boundary in the way between Scott asking Jean out.

Before he could think about it, he thought he heard the gates at the far end of the grounds open. Looking up, he smiled to see the Professor's limousine pull into the Institute. "Look who's here."

Jean had already seen the vehicle pull in. A quick mental scan showed three people inside: the Professor, Storm…and finally the one they waited all summer for: Jason. "When I was at his house earlier this summer, he looked a lot better than when I first saw him. Hopefully, he's still all right. I'm sure he misses his family already."

Scott's smile got a little forced. "Yeah…I'm sure he does."

They watched as they saw the Professor and Jason come out of the vehicle, and Jason headed towards the back of the vehicle. Suddenly, Sam ran to catch another high ball, cannonballing all the way…and towards Jason.

Jean quickly called out telepathically to Jason. _"Jason, look out!"_

Jason had been in the process of removing the bigger of his two suitcases from the trunk of the limo when a mental voice cried out to him to look out. Looking up, he saw something that looked like a figure of a man careening towards him like a freight train. Jason barely had time to swear before hitting the turf, just a brief moment before Sam Guthrie launched over his head and through the bushes.

The Professor heard Jean's telepathic warning himself and as soon as Sam has passed "safely" by, he pulled up to Jason. "Jason, are you hurt?"

Jason got up and dusted himself off. "No, I'm okay…" Jason looked wildly at the bushes. "What the hell was that!"

At that moment, Sam came out of the bushes with a worried look on his face. "Oh, man! Did I hit you? I didn't mean to spin out like that!"

Before Jason could respond, the Professor spoke sternly to Sam. "Samuel, you are attending this Institute to learn how to properly manage your powers. That was certainly _not_ how to do it!"

Sam wilted some under the fierce gaze of the Professor. "I'm sorry, Professor."

Jason's heart was still racing a bit after being nearly beheaded by a human body of all things, but willed himself to calm down. "No harm done this time…" Jason exhaled. "I take it you're a student here too?"

Sam smiled. "How could you tell?"

Jason reached out a hand. "Jason."

Sam took it. "Call me Sam…or Cannonball."

Jason had to resist the urge to laugh at the incredibly fitting surname.

"Well, Sam," the Professor. "If you would be so kind as to take Jason's luggage to the Institute…"

Sam sighed a bit; this was a little bit of suggestive restitution for nearly decapitating Jason. "Yes, Professor." Tossing the baseball to Jason, he took up Jason's luggage—aside from his backpack as Jason was wearing that—and worked his way to the Institute.

Jason turned to the Professor to object, but the Professor cut him off. "I'm sure you are eager to see the rest of the Institute, Jason."

Jason had to mentally catch up to deal with the change of topics. "Uh, yeah." Jason looked around to see who was playing catch with Sam, and espied Bobby waving to him. With a heave, he tossed the ball gracefully towards Bobby. Upon catching it, Bobby noticed who really threw the ball at him. "Hey! It's a new guy!" Bobby cried out.

That caught the attention of the other students outside, and Jason saw several other students come towards him at a rush. _"Oh boy…"_ Jason thought, and saw that the Professor was smiling. The new students—save for Sam—crowded around him. Tabitha gave him a quick one-over. "And he's a cutie!"

Jason blushed at once, and the other girls began to giggle, which further hampered his ability to speak.

Bobby quickly teased, "Uh oh, looks like he's broken."

Finally, Jason found his tongue, however awkwardly. "Uh…hi." Jason mentally kicked himself. _"Well, that was classy." _ That prompted the girls to giggle again, and Jason could swear his ears were red as well.

Jamie, the youngest—and most definitely the shortest—one there finally replied innocently, "Hi, I'm Jamie."

Jason's embarrassment evaporated immediately at hearing Jamie, and he looked down to see Jamie. "Hey, Jamie. I'm Jason."

Bobby finally decided to introduce himself. "I'm Bobby, a.k.a. the 'Iceman.' And you already met 'Multiple.'" As if to emphasize the point, Bobby gave Jamie's shoulder a firm pat.

Jason blinked as he saw that now there were three "Jamies." "I see why…"

Ray was next. "I'm Ray or Berzerker."

Roberto smiled. "I'm Roberto." At that, he soaked up the sun to go into his energized form. "Or Sunspot."

Rahne blushed a bit. "I'm Rahne."

The rest of the girls went in turn. "Amara."

"Jubilee."

Jason finally began to relax, when suddenly a cherry bomb went off at his feet. "Holy-!"

Tabitha laughed. "That never gets old!"

Jason looked incredulous, but Bobby intervened. "And you just met Tabitha, or Boom-Boom." And promptly began to laugh at the expression of Jason's face.

The Professor looked at Tabitha condescendingly briefly, but finally said. "Come along now, Jason."

"Uh…see you guys later." Jason said.

Again the girls began to giggle. Jason forced himself to walk on. This was worse than his first day at high school.

He looked up to see they were almost to the steps, and found Jean and a tall guy with red shades looking at him. He recognized Jean off the bat and smiled. "Jean!" Jason waved back. "Long time no see!"

Jean smiled. "You took your time, stranger."

Jason shrugged with a smile. "What they say about New York is true: traffic always sucks." Jason noticed Scott. "And you are…?"

"Scott Summers." Scott said politely, taking Jason's hand in a shake. "Looks like you are already familiar with the New Mutants."

Jason looked at the group on the yard. "Yeah, I guess I do."

"Well," the Professor cut in. "If you would, Scott, keep an eye on our newer students."

"Ok, I'll try," Scott said with a nervous smile.

"Jean, if you would be so kind to escort Jason around the Institute while I talk to Hank about Jason's preliminary tests," the Professor said.

"My what?" Jason blinked.

"Oh, don't worry about it." Jean said reassuringly. "They're just tests to gauge your abilities."

"Oh," Jason said, yet still felt a little nervous.

"I shall see you later, Jason," the Professor added. "Please make yourself at home."

"_I would hope so since I'm going to stay here…"_ Jason thought. By then, Jason and Jean entered the front parlor of the Institute, and Jason was already impressed. "Wow…"

"I know, it's quite something," Jean said.

"And I get to live here?" Jason said incredulously.

"We all do."

"I didn't think I was going to live in a mansion!"

Jean smiled; Jason's reaction was hardly unique but it still brought a smile to her face.

Just then, a bamf coupled with a cloud of sulfurous fumes popped up just a few feet away from Jason. "Ah! I thought I heard the new kid…" said the new arrival in a German-dialect.

Jason nearly jumped out of his shirt at the sudden entrance, but had to look twice to see that a blue-furred youth with a prehensile tail was sitting where the cloud had erupted. "Whoa!" Jason could only say.

Jean crossed his arms. "Kurt, has anyone told you that popping in on someone is rude?"

The fuzzy thing, Kurt, shrugged. "Maybe, but it's faster." To Jason, he held out a three-fingered hand. "I'm Kurt Wagner, the Incredible Nightcrawler!"

Jason hesitated for a brief second, then took his hand to shake, mildly surprised to see that it took was completely furry. "Uh…hi, I'm Jason."

Kurt noted the uneasiness in Jason's voice. "Ach, I understand. You're a little freaked out at seeing me. Let me help…"

Jason was alarmed. "No, no! I didn't mean—" But was cut off by Kurt pressing a button on his watch, and the blue fuzzy Kurt changed into a "human-looking" version of himself. "What?"

"Pretty cool, huh?" Kurt smiled. "So, what can you do?"

Before Jason had a chance to reply, Jean cut in, laughing. "Kurt, he's had a long trip getting here; give him a break."

Kurt quipped, "Well, so did I: all the way from Germany!"

Jason scratched behind his head. "Well, it's a bit hard to explain…"

Jean intervened. "Kurt, you'll get to see it later, I'm sure. Give Jason a bit of breathing room."

Kurt shrugged. "Fine, I know when I'm not wanted." With that, he disappeared again in a bamf.

Jason coughed in the sulfurous fumes, but then looked a little crestfallen. "Oh, man, did I just screw that one up?"

Jean smiled. "Well, it might have been better if you didn't stare at Kurt like that before he switched on his image inducer, but I can hardly blame you."

Jason sighed again. "Damn it…"

"Don't be too hard on yourself; Kurt is not the type to hold a grudge."

"If you say so…"

"Come on, I'll show you the kitchen…" Jean then led Jason to the kitchen, and Jason was trying to not feel like a complete heel.

* * *

><p>While Jason was being taken on a tour of the Institute, the Professor met with Hank McCoy in the Professor's study. Hank McCoy was also a mutant, and his mutation was among the most obvious of all who were at the Institute. His body was covered with blue fur, similar to Nightcrawler, but he also came with bulging muscles and a gorilla-like build, down to the way his hands and feet were shaped. But despite his fierce appearance, "Beast" as he was called sometimes, was gentle and kind, and did not lack for brains either.<p>

"I hear Jason has arrived at our Institute," Hank said pleasantly, looking over some notes he gathered from studying some tomes on alchemy, Jason's power. "How was he?"

The Professor smiled. "A little nervous. I sense the reception he received by our newer students did little to alleviate it."

Hank chuckled at that. "I don't doubt it. However, I'm interested in seeing his alchemy at work."

"As do we all," the Professor said. "I doubt that any of our students will want to miss Jason's preliminary exercise."

"Did we want him to go through the scanner first, or do it after the preliminary exercise?"

"Before. We need to see exactly how Jason's power affects his physiology, then the exercise."

Hank nodded. "Of course…"

"We will also have a guest to observe Jason: Dr. Strange."

Hank's eyebrows shot up a fraction knowingly. "It makes sense to have the master of magic arts to view a display of alchemy."

"It was thanks to him that I was able to determine Jason's power, and I'm sure he wants to see Jason's power for himself. After all, alchemy borders close to the mystical arts."

"Which begs the question:" Hank cut in. "Jason is a unique situation. Unlike any others at the Institution, Jason's training will have to be more than just field tests. Alchemy is a science, and like any science, it needs to be taught."

"Indeed…" the Professor agreed. "Once, I thought that Jason's scientific knowledge through school would at least be some help to expanding his powers, but after the rooftop incident, a professional in the arts should train him on how to properly gauge his power."

Hank saw where this was going. "Few there be to teach the boy on such a lost art."

"Few indeed…" the Professor said with a smile.

Before he got the chance to continue, there was a knock at the door. Both Hank and the Professor looked up. "Enter," Charles called out.

At once, the door opened, ushering in a tall well-built youth with a kind expression on his face. "You needed to see me, Professor?"

The Professor smiled. "Yes, Piotr. Please, sit down. Hank, you can go."

"Of course, Charles." With that, Hank walked past Piotr out the door. Piotr watched him go briefly then sat down in a chair across from the Professor.

The Professor folded his hands. "All right, Piotr. Did you set up your room for our newest student?"

Piotr nodded. "Yes, Professor."

"Good, I'm sure Jason will appreciate that."

Piotr's eyes widened a bit. "Jason?"

"Yes, Piotr. I decided to make Jason Downs your roommate. I figured it would be easiest for Jason—and maybe yourself—to settle in at the Institute if he was with a friend." Here the Professor smiled. "And since, besides me, Jason knows only Jean and you, and you know our policy regarding roommates.

Piotr managed a sheepish smile, but he was delighted that the one who talked him out of despair was going to be the one he's rooming with. Ever since he came to the Institute, he had enjoyed the luxury of having the room to his own, and he was grateful. During the depths of despair, he would retreat to his room and was glad when he was not disturbed. He had been doing better since Jason had talked to him back at the hospital, but every now and again he would feel that guilt. After all, a burden that was shouldered for two years isn't as easy to lay it aside as it seems. "Where is he now?" Piotr asked.

"Jean is showing him around the Institute, and I imagine he'll be arriving to my office shortly thereafter. In the meantime…I believe we need to talk."

Piotr went from elated to confused in the blink of an eye. "What do you mean?"

The Professor closed his eyes. "Piotr, you have been with the Institute for several months now, yet you've been carrying a heavy burden for several months now."

Piotr involuntarily winced. He saw where this was going. "Professor…"

The Professor raised a hand. "Piotr, I hope you know that shouldering such despair since you and your sister were rescued from Magneto's clutches. Do you see yourself as responsible?"

Piotr's eyes stung. Just mentioning the past showed that he still had a lot of healing to do, and he was still reluctant to talk about it. The only ones whom he divulged it to were Jason as well as his father but that couldn't be helped given where it happened. Ever since then, he never told anyone else, although Jason had encouraged him to talk to the Professor about it; maybe now was the time. "I did…"

The Professor noted his use of the past tense, but didn't call him out on it. "Piotr, it was never your fault."

"I know…" Piotr replied quickly. "…but sometimes I still feel it."

The Professor looked understanding. "You've been shouldering such a burden for years, and it has taken a toll on your mind." The Professor sighed before speaking again. "Piotr, you know you can always talk to me. I have a responsibility for everyone at the Institute to help when they need it; that includes you."

Piotr hung his head in shame.

The Professor continued. "May I ask why you've chosen not to confide in me?"

Tear-rimmed eyes met the Professor's as Piotr raised his head back up. "I…I did not feel worthy…"

The Professor's eyebrows shot up slightly. "Worthy?"

"You've been so kind to me…" Piotr explained. "I-I felt so—what is right word?—wrong, like I did not belong."

The Professor closed his eyes, and then looked at Piotr compassionately. "Your guilt seemed to have deceived you. You believed that you couldn't even trust us with your pain because you always thought that in the back of our minds, we always thought you were a traitor."

Piotr could only look down, but he finally nodded.

The Professor then smiled pleasantly. "That being said, I believe that you've begun to see that your doubts were wrong. I'm not the first you've spoken about this to, am I?"

Piotr rose his head again, and then said. "No, you are not the first. The first I told…" Here, Piotr gave a ghost of a smile. "…was Jason."

The Professor looked pleased. "Did you, now? Very good, Piotr. Good…"

Here, Piotr allowed himself to smile a little more.

"It seems my choice to pair you with Jason in housing was a good idea. Perhaps he can help you some more…"

That was what Piotr was hoping for. Back at the hospital, Jason had helped Piotr so much while the former himself had to have been in a lot of pain.

His thoughts were interrupted as there was a knock on the door. The Professor, looked up as well as Piotr. Smiling knowingly, the Professor called for the new visitor to enter. The door opened enough to let in Jean and Jason. Jason looked around the room and at once saw Piotr. "Peter! Hey, how are you doing?"

Piotr stood up, seven inches taller than Jason, looking elated. "I…I do good."

Jason wordlessly forgave the bad grammar. "I couldn't stop thinking about you since we last talked." A look of concern etched across his face. "You holding up?"

"I'm doing better."

Jason smiled. "Good!" Remembering that Jean and the Professor were in the room, he looked at them. "Professor, has anyone ever told you how cool this place is?"

The Professor chuckled at that. "I'm glad you approve of the Institute. I trust Jean has shown you the lower levels as well?"

Jason forced a smile. "Yeah…except the Cerebro room."

"For obvious reasons," Jean added.

"Well, Jason," the Professor said. "You will need to get settled in this weekend. School starts this coming Monday, and there are some things we will need to do today as well as tomorrow."

"No rest for the weary, huh?" Jason said with a smile.

"I'm afraid not, but don't worry." The Professor looked at Piotr. "Piotr, would you take Jason to his new room?"

"Gladly, Professor," the tall Russian youth said eagerly.

"You'll be rooming with Piotr, Jason. I hope that's all right with you."

When Jason heard those tidings, he smiled. "Oh yeah, it'll be more than all right. It will be great. Is it all right if I go now?"

The Professor chuckled again. "Go on. I'll let you know when you are needed."

Jason and Piotr turned to leave the room, talking as they went. Once the door shut behind them, Jean smiled on her own. "Is it just me, or does Piotr seem…happier?"

The Professor looked at Jean. "Piotr has shouldered too much for one man for years, but something happened in that hospital room that day that lightened it. Jason and Piotr began to bond as good friends on that day. I dare say that their friendship may be what both of them need for each of them to heal their respective wounds."

Jean crossed her arms. "I hope so. After seeing Jason near suicidal when I first saw him, I'm glad to see him happy now."

"The same can be said of young Piotr. I'm glad he's found someone to confide in, even if it wasn't me."

Jean looked back at the Professor. "He'll come around one day…"

"Yes…I'm sure he will."

* * *

><p>Soon after that, Piotr and Jason came to what had become their shared room. Jason at once appreciated it, to say the least. "Good grief! You could fit four people in here comfortably!"<p>

Piotr had never thought about the size of his room, but looking around, he saw its size for the first time. "Well…yes…I suppose so."

"Well, lucky for us, there's only two." Jason gestured to a bed on the left side of the room, where a parcel sat on. "That my bed?"

Piotr nodded.

"Thanks," Jason said as he strode for it. Removing his backpack, he placed it on the bed and sat down on it, testing its firmness. "Not too shabby…"

Piotr sat down on his own bed, where a sketchpad and pencil lay abandoned. "I'm happy you like it."

"You know, I was a little worried about this place…" Jason said while looking out the window, seeing the newer students he ran into having resumed activities. "But as Jean showed me around, I found myself liking it." Then, Jason looked a little down. "Although I screwed up royally when I met Kurt."

Piotr's eyes widened a bit. "What did you say?"

"It's more like what I _didn't_ say. As soon as I saw him teleport him and saw his…" Jason paused as he tried to word himself very carefully. "…mutation, I just froze up and I'm sure he knew what I was thinking."

Piotr looked down a bit. He knew Kurt had a very obvious mutation, and to those first seeing such a mutation, it was to say the least shocking. Whatever came afterwards was often mixed. "You should talk to him, Jason," Piotr finally said.

"Yeah, I know…" Jason said, then as an afterthought. "…if he'll let me."

"Kurt is forgiving," Piotr said. "If you ask."

That seemed to reassure Jason. "Thanks, Piotr. Looks like we're a bit even now…"

Piotr smiled sheepishly.

Jason's eyes fell on the parcel on his bed. "Hmm, I wonder what this is…" he wondered aloud. Picking it up, he looked it over and found his name in Sharpie written on it. "What do we have here?" Testing the weight, he discovered that it was heavier than it looked. Not hesitating another moment, he tore off one side of the parcel and dumped its contents on the bed. "Whoa…"

Piotr recognized it. "Ah, it's your uniform!"

"Uniform?" Jason stood up from the bed, taking up the black spandex-like uniform and looked it over. The top part was short-sleeved but had a tall neck, and appeared to be tight fitting, as did the lower-part—only that was long-legged. Aside from the dominant black color, there were also white markings on it, like it was designed by the people who made _Tron_. On the left breast of the uniform was a solid-brass button that contained a red-on-black image of a bolded X. A matching brass belt came with the uniform that had the red-on-black X for the buckle. Included were fingerless gloves with padded surfaces and boots with thickened rubber soles. "Wow…" Jason could only say.

"We all have different ones…" Piotr said. "But I not see any that look like yours."

"Really?" Jason said, holding up the suit to himself. "Man, I'm going to feel like I'm going to step onto the Grid every time I put this on."

"The Grid?" Piotr asked, confused.

"Movie reference. If you didn't see _Tron: Legacy_, it's all right. I didn't either, but I saw the commercials." Jason looked over the uniform, wondering who designed it. "Should I put it on?"

"Perhaps, you should, to see if it fit."

Jason conceded that point. "You don't mind if I change here, do you?"

Piotr blinked in confusion at that question briefly, but answered. "Uh, no…"

Jason caught the hesitation. "You sure? Because I can always find the nearest bathroom…"

Piotr raised his hands. "No…it's all right. I-I was just surprised by question."

"Ok, that's a little strange…" Jason finally shrugged. "Oh well, considering where we are, I'm guessing strange is the norm."

"'Norm'?" Piotr asked.

"Normal."

"Oh," Piotr sighed. He reminded himself he needed to work on his English, but English was more difficult than he had anticipated.

Looking up again, he saw that Jason had already begun to change. Upon his removal of his shirt, Piotr espied the small scars on his right side, right along his ribcage. They weren't as significant as the scar on his head, but they were noticeable just the same. Aside from that, it looked like Jason had recovered well from the tornado.

Jason slipped on the lower-half of his uniform, pulling it on tight, and groaned. "Do I need to wear an athletic supporter with this?"

Piotr was blank for one second, then understood what Jason was complaining about, and had to suppress a laugh. "Um…I don't have to."

Jason didn't seem convinced. "Maybe I could install a cup…"

"I would not worry much," Piotr said. "I have not had problem."

Jason looked at Piotr apprehensively. "Well, I guess I can give it a try…but if you-know-what happens, I'm installing a cup."

Piotr fought off another urge to laugh, and then noticed Jason's rather modest build. "Jason, do you lift much?"

Jason was just snapping on the belt as he heard Piotr's question. "Eh, some. I was more concerned about flexibility than overall strength. I lifted some to keep my arms and upper body in some shape. Had to work a bit of overtime after—" Jason trailed off as he stared into space briefly. Discussing what happened with the tornado was a touchy subject to Jason, as he came out the most scarred arguably. "—well, anyway, since I was in gymnastics in my Freshman year, I focused mainly on being nimble."

Piotr had noticed Jason's change of the subject, and he understood why. Talking about his "slave hood" under Magneto was an upsetting subject to discuss for him as well. He didn't care for being pressed on it, and he doubted Jason would enjoy the same from him, so he did not press the subject. "Were you really good?"

"Well…" Jason said thoughtfully. "I wasn't the best student at the class, but there is one thing I could pat myself on the back for…"

"And that is?"

Jason smiled. "I was the best guy in the class."

As Piotr thought about this, Jason slipped on the upper-half of his uniform. After adjusting it a bit, he walked around the room, testing its ease of motion and resistance to normal mobility. After stretching his shoulders, he reported. "Well, I got to say, this one doesn't feel too bad, even around the neck. A little tight on the shoulders, but I think I can fix that."

Piotr was curious. "How?"

Jason clapped his hands together and clapped them on his chest. Piotr sat mystified as green bolts of energy raced around his uniform. He didn't see anything significant happen, but as soon as the reaction was over, Jason tested the shoulders again and frowned. "Damn it, now they're too loose." Jason clapped his hands together again and repeated the transmutation. Jason tested it again, and nodded. "Guess that's the best I can do right now."

"What did you do?" Piotr asked.

Jason looked strange at Piotr, but made a percipient look. "Oh yeah, I forgot I didn't tell you properly. It's called _alchemy_, or so Magneto said. I don't know how exactly I do it, but when I clap my hands together, I feel this boost inside of me and when I concentrate, I can use that boost to change just about anything into something else, providing I know what the thing I'm changing is made of, anyway."

Piotr looked thoroughly confused. "I do not understand."

"It's a bit hard to explain. Let me see…" Jason looked around the room; soon enough, his eyes locked on the artpad that lay forgotten at Piotr's side. "Hey, I have an idea. Can I borrow a page from your artpad there?"

Piotr looked at the artpad next to him, Picking it up and opening it, he found a blank page among many and tore it out. "Will this work?"

Jason took it. "Yeah, this will be great." Jason then stooped to the ground, laying the paper on it. "I can change this paper into a lot of different things, but I do have a limit: anything I turn this piece of paper into will have the same mass as what the paper is now. Observe…" Jason clapped his hands together and touched the paper with one hand. Piotr watched as alchemic energy carved the paper into a small paper crane that say on a little square of paper. "And there you have it. It's called a transmutation. I changed one thing into another."

Piotr got on his knees as well, and picked up the crane tenderly, amazed at how light it felt. "Astounding…"

Jason smiled. "Yeah, that's one way to put it."

"_Jason?"_ came a telepathic cry.

Jason looked up, and his eyes went distant. Piotr understood immediately; the Professor had something to say to Jason.

Jason replied the same way. "_Yes, Professor?"_

"_I trust you have settled in well enough?"_

"_For the most part, yes. Just trying on the uniform that was sitting on my bed."_

"_Good; you will need that for training sessions. I trust it fits?"_

"_For the most part; I had to make a couple of adjustments, but overall it fits fine."_

"_Very good. We only have a matter of time to run preliminary tests, Jason, so please report to the infirmary for an examination."_

"_Examination?"_

"_It's all part of understanding how the X-Gene within yourself has manifested. Once the examination is concluded, we will move on to the first preliminary."_

"_All right, I'm on my way."_ Aloud, he turned to Piotr. "Looks like I got to go."

"I understand. I will see you later."

"You betcha… Catch you later!" With that, Jason left Piotr to his thoughts.

"'_Catch me later'? Why must he catch me? I will never understand this English language…"_

* * *

><p>It took longer than Jason cared to admit to reach the infirmary, but when he arrived, he looked around and found a separate room. Peeking through the door, he espied Jean and what looked like a blue gorilla looking over something that looked like an M.R.I. machine. Jason looked away to stem the shock that he felt when he encountered Kurt. After all, normal around here was abnormal, and vice versa. He just needed to keep telling himself that. After taking a breath, he walked in. "Uh, Jean?"<p>

Jean turned to see Jason in uniform in the doorway, and waved. "Hey, Jason."

So did the blue gorilla. "Ah, here's our newest student."

Jason was inwardly shocked at how gentle this guy sounded. "Yeah, that's me. Jason Downs. I don't think you and I met, sir…"

Hank chuckled, which calmed Jason's feelings. "No, I doubt we have. I am Dr. Hank McCoy, otherwise known as 'Beast.'"

Jason couldn't help it. "I can't imagine why," he said with a slight grin. As soon as he said it, he wanted to kick himself. Hastily, he added, "I didn't—"

Hank smiled pleasantly. "It's all right, young man. I know I'm rather unusual-looking, but in time, you'll see that I am a human being underneath this façade."

Jason made the attempt to relax. "Yeah. I guess I'm still not quite used to being a mutant…or even understanding just how different mutants can be."

Hank laid a heavy hand on Jason's shoulder. "We don't learn anything until we subject ourselves to the lessons, however hard they might be. Points in your favor, you're faring better than most."

Jason managed a weak smile, but remembered that there were two fuzzy mutants, and he already botched one meeting with that one. _"Well, I hope I can at least make things up to Kurt."_

"Well, Jason, I trust you're making yourself comfortable here. I wish we had more time for these tests, but I'm afraid time isn't with us." Hank motioned to the machine he and Jean were just adjusting. "You see this?"

"Yeah," Jason affirmed. "Looks like an M.R.I."

"Indeed, but instead it screens the body for the X-Gene, to see where the mutation has most manifested within your body. After that, we'll hook you up to an E.E.G. machine and see how your nervous system handles your power when in recess and upon activation."

"Sounds simple enough…" Jason said. "You sure this doesn't use magnet resonance imaging? The last thing I need is half my face flying around the room."

Hank chuckled. "It doesn't, so you don't need to worry." Hank motioned to the platform that slid into the machine."All right, you are going to need to remove the top part of the uniform for the tests, if you please. We will need to hook up various sensors to you before you go into the X-Gene Manifest Scanner, or better known as the X-Scanner."

"Yeah, I know the drill. It was the same at the hospital." Jason smiled as he took off the top part of his uniform.

In due process of time, Jason was laid down on the machine's sliding bed. Jean assisted Hank in putting on various sensors on strategic parts on Jason's body. When that was over, Hank and Jean stepped back a bit. "Are you comfortable, Jason?" Hank asked.

Jason lifted his head up. "Are these ever?"

Jean smiled. "They really don't look like they are."

"Oh, they aren't; trust me on that one."

Hank chuckled. "Now, you will need to hold still for as long as it takes, Jason. Once it is done, we'll get you out. Do you have any other questions?"

"Just one." Jason smiled a bit. "Why is it every time I see Jean, I always have my shirt off?"

Jean pressed a button on a nearby console that slid Jason quickly into the so-called X-Scanner.

"Kidding…" Jason quipped.

* * *

><p>Some time later, Hank began to discuss the findings of Jason's examinations with the Professor in the debriefing room, along with Jean, Scott and Ororo, the latter three in uniform in readiness for Jason's preliminaries. As the results flashed through the screen, Hank pointed out various points of interest. "Most of his physiology is unaffected by the X-Gene, but his entire nervous system has shown readings of active X-Gene presence, from his hypothalamus to the last neurons in his toes. The highest concentration is in the peripheral nervous systems in his arms."<p>

"That might explain the constant twitches in his fingertips," the Professor surmised.

"Possibly. The E.E.G. has depicted increased neural activity. In most, the amount of activity would induce fatigue after only a little time, yet Jason appears to exhibit no fatigue from the higher levels of activity. It is possible his mutation has heightened his ability to harness the heightened neural activity. Most would have burnout after so long."

Jean spoke next. "But just how does this grant Jason the power to manipulate matter?"

"This is where it becomes a bit of a mystery. When we asked Jason to demonstrate his transmutations, the neural activity spikes." Hank showed another diagram. "As you see here, the levels of energy in his arms shoot through the roof, as if he grabbed onto a livewire with ten-thousand volts of electricity racing through. All that energy is expelled through his hands upon transmutation, returning to normal levels. Every time he claps his hands together, the level spikes again."

"Man, that looks like it hurts," Scott surmised.

"It does," Hank said. "I observed Jason shaking out his arms as well as him rubbing his forearms as if they burned. The E.E.G. showed active pain receptors in the muscles around the arm. Quite possibly, his muscles are being electrocuted during the transmutation process, but because of his mutation, they seem to bear no lasting effects. In time, Jason's muscles will adapt to the constant exposure to such heightened bioelectrical signals. His fingers may even stop twitching, but that may be a long while. Jason will just have to bear the pain, like he does now."

"I still don't get it," Jean said. "This looks almost exactly like Berserker's readings, but how did Jason get such a different power?"

"There's more:" Hank showed another diagram, one outlining what appeared to be a human figure silhouette, and around him was an aura of red with swirls that faded the farther it left the silhouette. "On a hunch, I decided to test for other energy wavelengths in Jason's body. As you see here, Jason has an aura of an energy that isn't in our records. Whenever he claps his hands together, the aura intensifies around him. This energy must be granting him his alchemic powers, but whatever this energy is, I cannot say."

"And therein lies the mystery," the Professor concluded. "That may be the part of the X-Gene that we may never understand."

Scott and Jean sat silent for a while, while Jean finally spoke up. "Professor, just how powerful can Jason become?"

The Professor laced his fingers together in thought. "It would be impossible to fully describe his full potential, but from what my good friend, Dr. Strange, has told me, Jason's power will increase as his knowledge of science will. If Jason applies what he learns in science to his alchemy, his power will grow substantially. Who knows what he will be capable of doing?"

"Speaking of Jason," Scott began. "Shouldn't we begin his preliminary soon?"

"Yes, and I've invited Dr. Strange to watch alongside us. Since he's proficient in mystical arts, his input for Jason will be valuable. Now, let us go. Jason has waited long enough."

* * *

><p>Jason found himself pacing in the large dome-like room called the Danger Room. If the name wasn't ominous enough, Jason noticed a large amount of paneling in the walls, likely containing who-knows-what; even the floor was paneled. Jason looked up at the observation deck hanging from the ceiling in the middle of the room. He could even see that a lot of the other students—if not all—have come to see whatever he was going to do. He wouldn't feel too bad about it if he wasn't alone down here. As he looked up, he looked for the more familiar faces, but couldn't find Jean, the Professor, or even Piotr. Sighing, he continued to wait and wonder.<p>

Suddenly, a red mist showed up out of nowhere near the center of the room. Startled, Jason looked to see a man step out of it, dressed in blue robes and a radiant red cape. He looked around the room, and immediately saw Jason. A kind smile etched across his face. "Ah, greetings, young Jason. I'm glad we can meet under less dire circumstances."

Jason blinked briefly in confusion, and then in his mind's eye, he saw a being dressed similarly to him coming to aid him on the rooftop, summoning a bird of flame to thwart Magneto. "I know you…" Jason started. "You were on the rooftop that night. Dr…Dr. Strange!"

The stranger nodded. "I'm glad to see you still remember. You were under great tribulation on that night, and I'm glad to see that you seem to have made a full recovery from it."

Jason shrugged. "I like to think so, anyway. Hey, I didn't get to say thank you for that night to you."

Dr. Strange raised a hand. "You do not need to, young man. Had I not interfered, Magneto could have done great harm to you. I'm only happy I was on time."

Jason only nodded. At that moment, the doors for the Danger Room slid open, permitting two others to join Jason and Dr. Strange.

The Sorcerer Supreme bowed at the waist. "Greeting, young Cyclops and Jean Grey."

Jean smiled. "Thank you for coming, Dr. Strange. We're looking forward to see what you have to say about Jason's performance."

Jason looked at Jean. "He's here to see how I do?"

"Of course, Jason. After seeing your gifts that night, I had to see for myself, although that's not the only reason why I'm here."

Jason was about to ask regarding the latter part of that explanation, but the Professor interrupted their thoughts through the loudspeaker. _"It's good to see you, Stephen. I trust everything is well at the Sanctorum?"_

"Indeed it is, dear Charles. I thank you for inviting me to observe Jason's preliminary exercises."

"_You're welcome. Jason?"_

Jason looked up. "Yeah?"

"_Are you ready to begin?"_

Jason had to sigh determinedly before continuing. "I guess."

Sensing his nervousness, Jean put a hand on Jason's shoulder. "You're not going at this alone, Jason. Scott and I are going to be beside you along the way."

"Not that we're going to make this easy; we're just here to get you out of bad spots." Scott said, letting a half-smile etch across his face.

"Thanks…I think."

"_All right, Jason, listen closely:"_ the Professor began. _"Your first preliminary today will be an obstacle course. This exercise is to test how you will use your powers to achieve success. Scott and Jean will accompany you to observe and assist, but you must be the one to run this course. Understood?"_

"Perfectly."

"_Jean? Scott? Please lead Jason to the beginning of the course."_

As Jason was led away, Dr. Strange hovered off the floor to observe from the air and in silence. He had his own thoughts on the boy upon learning of his mutant powers. He had witnessed it himself on the rooftop, but at the time, Jason's attempts were crude and instinctual. He hoped Jason has been practicing—in secret—to refine his technique. This would prove to be a profitable evening indeed.

Jason found himself standing at an unmarked line, accompanied by Scott and Jean at his side, and all the butterflies in the world in his stomach. Willing his heart to slow down, he pulled his fingerless gloves tight on his hands and shook out his arms, all the while trying to ignore the dull ache in his fingers and palms.

"_All right,"_ Ororo's voice said through the loudspeaker. _"We are ready to begin in three…two…one…"_

A buzzer sounded and the three took off around the circumference of the Danger Room. Jason barely had time to wonder what was coming up, when a panel shot up three feet from the floor. Jason saw it and hurtled over it. Next came up another panel but taller. Jason leaped up, letting his foot vault him over. Another panel: taller and thicker. Jason couldn't vault over it properly…unless…

Jason dashed towards it in a sprint, and at the last moment leaped. His hands caught the panel and he flipped over gracefully. Landing on his feet facing the opposite direction, he turned around and kept on running, Scott and Jean close behind. A panel flew in from the side, prompting him to slide under. Another panel came up, taller than ever, making the path seemingly impassable. Jason ran towards it, his mind racing on what to do, but then he remembered an old saying: When a door closes, open a window. "I have a better idea: how about I make a door?" Clapping his hands together, he slapped them against the wall. Quickly, a simple door formed and he kicked it open. "Scott! Jean! Through here!" With that, he darted through.

Jean stared at the door for a second. "Whoa…"

"That's what he does?" Scott's eyes widened behind his visor.

Jason peeked back in. "Hey, are you coming or what?"

With that, the three darted off again. New obstacles shot up in the form of cylinders that shot up when one of them got too close. They proved frustrating to Scott and Jean as well as Jason. Jason was content to dodge them, while Scott blasted away the ones that were closest to him with his optic blasts. Then, a whole wall of them got in their way. Jason pondered his next move briefly, and then he got an idea. He clapped his hands together and slammed them against the cylinders. Alchemic energy raced through the bases, causing them to bend. Jason pushed them forward with ease until he could climb over them.

Next, a turret popped out of the walls, firing solid metal spheres at the three. Jason ducked and dodged as best he could, but got a solid smack from one on his right leg, downing him briefly. Angrily, Jason bounded back up, and clapped his hands together, transmuting a steel bat from the floor. As more spheres shot at him, he swatted them away.

Suddenly, the floor sank around them until the entire track was now submerged under the main floor of the Room. Every turret and obstacle vanished away from site. Perplexed, Jason looked around, when he heard a sickening metallic clang, followed by a low rumbling. Turning, his eyes nearly flew out of his head as he saw the culprit: a giant metal ball careening towards him on the circular track like a freight train. Instinct kicked in and he transmuted a solid metal wall form the ground. The ball crashed into it with a bang, and its vibrations knocked Jason off his feet, but the wall held, aside from a massive dent in it. Jason took a few seconds of adrenalin-fueled breathing, before he remembered what he was supposed to be doing. Leaping up, he took off at a sprint.

Suddenly, the paneling in front of him rose to varying heights, creating a haphazard platform to climb. Not hesitating, Jason climbed up it, but when he reached the top, he found that he was now standing at a drop of over thirty feet. To continue, he needed to get down there, but a jump would likely cause serious injury to his legs, and that was out of the question. Then, Jason got another idea. With another clap of his hands, he transmuted a gradual slope, and merely slid down it. Getting back on his feet, he took off again. He tried to ignore the growing stitch in his side and the thought that he was beginning to suck wind.

Out of nowhere, another wall shot up, but far too thick for Jason to make a door. Jason looked up at the height of the wall. Only one way to go: up. He transmuted a platform right underneath him, lifting him up off the ground, but halfway up, it tilted backwards on him and he fell sprawling off, landing hard. Jason rolled onto his side, more surprised than hurt. Scott and Jean joined him at his side. "Are you all right, Jason?" Jean asked.

"Yeah," Jason looked perplexed at the offending platform and saw the problem. "Oh, doy, I rushed it." Jason climbed back on his seat, all the while clapping his hands together for another transmutation. Placing his hand on the damaged platform, he returned it to its original form in the floor. "Let's try this again." He transmuted again, giving himself a bigger platform that fed off of the wall, causing it to collapse some as it turned into the platform. Jason leaped off the platform and looked back just in time to see Jean telekinetically raise herself and Scott from the ground below. "Oh, was I supposed to help you guys up as well?" Jason said, berating himself for leaving his teammates behind.

"Forget about it; this is your test. Now move it!" Jean barked.

Jason obeyed at a run, and immediately crossed a black line on the ground. At once, the buzzer sounded. Startled, Jason looked up to the observation room. _"Very good, Jason,"_ the Professor praised. _"Good use of your surroundings to achieve your objective."_

Jason blinked. "I'm done?"

"_This test is concluded, yes. Rest a moment while I discuss things with the others."_

Jason sighed in relief and sat down on the floor. Scott and Jean joined him. "Not bad, Jason. That was pretty good for a first time run."

Jason smiled a bit as he breathed. "Thanks. I've actually been practicing on little things back at home in the basement."

"In secret, I hope…" Jean said, crossing her arms.

"Yeah, by myself. Only my family knew about it."

Dr. Strange dropped down, as it were. "I am impressed, young Jason. Not many can use alchemy so skillfully with no training."

Jason blinked in surprise at seeing someone else knew what his power was before he had to explain it. "You know alchemy?"

"Indeed. I would not be the Sorcerer Supreme of Earth if I did not know such an art."

Jason hung on the words "Sorcerer Supreme." "You're a wizard?"

Dr. Strange smiled at the term. "In a more elevated sense of the term, yes."

Jason suddenly felt like he shouldn't be surprised. After all, he was keeping company right now with a girl with telekinesis, and a boy that could shoot laser blasts with his eyes. Why shouldn't there be a master of magic?

Scott crossed his arms. "I can't say I really see the difference between magic and…what was it you call it again, Jason?"

"Alchemy," Jason replied.

"To the unknowing eye, both alchemy and magic look the same, young Cyclops," Dr. Strange explained. "However, alchemy is bound by the laws of science. Magic is the means to suspend the laws of the natural universe. In essence, magic can do what alchemy cannot do."

Jason further explained. "Remember the platform I screwed up on earlier? I didn't take into account the amount of mass I needed to transmuted, and because of that it couldn't hold up my weight."

"Correct, Jason," Dr. Strange affirmed. "Jason had instinctually guessed the amount he needed and underestimated, leading to the flaw."

Scott still looked confused. "I'm not sure I follow still."

Jason continued. "It's an equation. My output needs to equal my input. Because I didn't get enough material to make the platform I needed, it was too weak to support me. I needed more to do it."

"It's a common mistake for those just learning," Dr. Strange reassured. "Still, it is good to see that you have been practicing."

Just then, the Professor announced through the P.A. system. _"Jason, Stephen, please meet with Storm, Piotr and myself in the briefing room to discuss the preliminary."_

"Yes, Professor," Jason replied obediently.

"_Hank will have a training session for the New Mutants in here. The rest of you are free to go."_

"Yes, Professor," Scott responded.

"'The rest'?" Jason inquired. "How many were watching me?"

Jean smiled. "Just about everyone."

Scott reiterated. "It's no big deal, really. Every time a new student comes, the entire student body here watches the preliminary. They're just curious to see what the new guy will do."

Jason didn't answer, but his general manner told Scott he understood.

"Come along now, Jason," Dr. Strange cut in. "We shouldn't keep the Professor waiting."

Jason nodded, and followed Dr. Strange through the door. Now alone, Scott and Jean looked around the room, seeing the result of Jason's many transmutations. Scott pursed his lips. "So, I can't help wondering: just how are we going to fix this?"

* * *

><p>Professor Xavier, Ororo and Piotr waited patiently in the briefing room; they didn't wait long as Jason came in led by Dr. Strange. The Professor greeted them. "Ah, good. Thank you for coming."<p>

Jason sighed from a combination of exhaustion and nervousness. "So, I suppose I did well?"

The Professor smiled. "Quite, better than most."

Jason let himself smiled. "Well, I guess that practice paid off."

"I know you've been practicing," the Professor said knowingly.

Jason blanched.

"Cerebro detected you every time you transmuted anything in your basement. Thank you for being careful, Jason. I'm sure it wasn't easy."

Jason exhaled with relief. "It wasn't. So, what's next?"

Storm spoke up. "Your preliminary today gives us an idea on how to approach to train you. Once you finish the rest of the preliminaries tomorrow, we'll be able to see just where we can place you in training. Granted, for the most part, you will be training with the New Mutants, but depending on your skill, you may be included to train with the X-Men."

Jason was a bit taken aback by that, but was gratified by it at the same time. "Cool…"

The Professor continued. "There's more, though. Your power is incredibly unique. Unlike the other students here, your power doesn't grow simply by evolutionary advancement, but with your knowledge in science and alchemy. Your training here will be two-fold: your normal training with our instructors, and learning of the alchemic arts. You will have to do the latter elsewhere, since none of us at the Institute have that kind of knowledge."

Jason understood. "I figured as much. Where am I going to go for that?"

The Professor didn't answer, but merely looked at Dr. Strange, who in turn looked at Jason with a bemused smile on his face. Jason followed the Professor's gaze from thence to its end. At once, Jason recalled Dr. Strange's words regarding that he knew alchemy, and immediately berated himself for not realizing it earlier. "Dr. Strange?"

"Indeed," Dr. Strange replied. "Charles came to me for counsel regarding your powers several months ago. When you were safe, I approached Charles to extend my knowledge of alchemy to you."

Jason was to say the least surprised at the sorcerer's generosity. "I-I don't mean to be ungrateful, but why would you do that?"

Dr. Strange crossed his arms. "Jason, to fully master your power, you must understand everything about it. Alchemy isn't limited to transmuting platforms or doors. Those are merely a couple of stars in the middle of a vast universe of alchemic knowledge. You can apply all your knowledge of chemistry and physics to increase the ways you can use alchemy, but it must be coupled to understanding the energies that enable alchemy. That's what I can teach you."

The Professor cut in. "Three times a week, you will train with Dr. Strange in the ways of alchemy, in addition to the training at the Institute. We're hoping you will take what you learn from your sessions with Stephen and apply it into your training."

Jason couldn't help but smile. "Sounds like I'm going to be busy."

"I know your schooling is very important, so our lessons will not take so long that it compromises your education. If necessary, we can also meet on a given weekend to do more."

Jason nodded understandingly. "Ok, if that's what it takes. I do want to know more about this power I have." Then, he thought to himself. "Maybe I can find out some answers for other questions I have myself."

Dr. Strange smiled. "Very good, Jason. Before I go, I must bestow you with this:" Dr. Strange reached within his cloak and pulled out a golden archaic pendant that contained a deep blue stone and placed it around Jason's neck.

Jason took the stone in his hands and looked it over, and then looked at Dr. Strange inquisitively. "What is it?"

"The Amulet of Agamotto. For those versed in magic, it can show he who wears it whom also is learned in magic, as well as being able to see ethereal beings, amongst other things. However, for you this is not the case. For you, it will enable you to teleport to the Sanctum Sanctorum library, where we will have our first lesson this Monday."

Jason looked back at the stone. "It can teleport me _only_ to that place?"

"No; it can teleport you anywhere that you can see in your mind, but I placed a spell on it so that it can teleport you to my library without needing to see it." Dr. Strange looked at Jason sternly. "However, if you do choose to teleport yourself to anywhere else, I will know. The Eye of Agamotto will see you every time."

Jason merely replied, "Oh."

Professor Xavier also looked stern. "Remember, Jason. Stephen entrusted this artifact to you to use responsibly. Do not use it for any purpose outside Dr. Strange's expectations."

"I know, Professor," Jason responded. "I was only curious about it."

The Professor only nodded.

Jason asked. "How do I use it?"

"Merely concentrate on the stone, and say the words '_peto locus_.'" Dr. Strange said. "It will then take you to your destination. In addition, the Amulet will enable me to keep track of you in case you are in danger. Now, I must return to the Sanctorum. Jason, Professor, Ororo, Piotr, _adieu_." With that, Dr. Strange teleported away in a red mist.

Jason merely stared at where Dr. Strange was moments before, before the Professor interrupted his thoughts. "Well, Jason, I'm sure you're tired from that last exercise. We won't be holding anymore preliminaries until tomorrow. Right now, we need to talk about you attending Bayville High School. When you arrive on Monday, you will need to visit Principle Raven Darkhölme for your orientation."

Jason nodded understandingly. "Guess it will be just the bare necessities I'll be signed up for."

"For the most part, yes. You'll be happy to know that I arranged that you can be in drama class as well, giving that you have an interest in the performing arts; at least, that what I gathered from your transcript."

Jason smiled sheepishly. "Yeah, I guess I did dabble in it a bit. But thanks; should be fun."

Piotr, who had been sitting quietly this entire time, suddenly spoke up. "Pardon me, Professor, but what is it you needed from me?"

The Professor smiled. "Yes, I was just getting to you." The Professor turned in his wheelchair to face the massive youth. "You'll be happy to know that everything has gone through for you to attend Bayville High School this coming term. You'll be starting in the junior level."

Jason looked pleased at that. "Hey, we're in the same grade! That's awesome!"

Piotr was stunned to silence however. For so long, he had not been in school—Magneto needed constant devotion for his cause after all—and wasn't sure what to feel.

Jason noticed Piotr's stunned expression, and smiled. "Uh, Peter?"

Piotr shook out of his trance, upon hearing the English version of his name, just enough to look at Jason.

"What's the matter? You look like you were about to enter the Twilight Zone."

Piotr wasn't sure what the Twilight Zone was, but decided not to find out. "Uh, yes…it's just…it's been so long since I go to school."

Jason made a look of realized understanding. "Oh, yeah, I should have figured. Well don't worry. We're in the same grade, which means we're probably in a lot of the same classes. I can help you through it."

"I was hoping you'd say that, Jason," the Professor said, then added with a smile. "High school is quite the experience to handle alone, even for those familiar with the system."

"You can say that again," Jason said with a laugh. "It's a whole new world."

Piotr didn't feel obliged to feel better about his upcoming first day.

Jason turned to Piotr again. "Heck, this will be new to me as well. We'll just blunder our way through it together."

Piotr could only sigh. He just never understood the English language.

* * *

><p><em>Monday, August 15<em>_th__, 2011 – 7:32 AM_

Jason stood on the steps of Bayville High School alongside his friend, Piotr Rasputin, both feeling like the breakfast they had changed into butterflies. Jason had tried to relax as much as he could this weekend, despite having two more preliminary exercises, but the first day of school was at the forefront of his mind. When he first entered high school himself, it was pure culture shock. Jason could only guess how Piotr was feeling right now, but he had a feeling it was about the same, probably doubly so. Pursing his lips, Jason finally managed to say, "Well…here we are…"

Piotr did the same. "Yes…"

"I guess we'd better find Ms. Darkhölme." Jason checked his watch. "Good thing we decided to come early."

Piotr nodded. "Yes…"

"Come on, Peter." Jason took his first couple of steps, when he heard a car rolling up. Looking to see, he espied a green convertible pull up into a parking spot. He stood looking at it for a bit, hoping it was a student that could lead them to the office, then he saw that it was not a student at all.

Striding determinedly towards the front doors was a woman, dressed professionally and bearing a look that could freeze blood. As she reached the steps, she scrutinized Jason and Piotr, who both wilted slightly under her gaze. Her eyes narrowing, she sternly said. "Can I help you, gentlemen?"

Jason had to swallow a boulder before speaking. "Uh, Ms. Darkhölme, I presume?"

The woman crossed her arms as she glowered at Jason. "Yes, I am she." Then she targeted Piotr. "I suppose you must be two new students to the school."

Piotr nodded sharply. "_Da_, that is us."

Ms. Darkhölme sighed disgustedly before she turned to Jason. "Very well. Follow me to my office, gentlemen."

"Yes, ma'am!" Jason practically yelped.

Without another word, Ms. Darkhölme marched up the steps. Jason and Piotr breathed a sigh before following themselves. None said a word as they marched through the quiet halls of the school, waiting for the bustling of the arrival of the new semester. It had not taken long for them to reach her office, but neither dared to say anything or even whisper anything the entire time it took to get there. When they arrived, Principal Darkhölme unlocked the door and allowed them in. They were barely two steps in when she spun around. "Sit," she said firmly.

Jason and Piotr obeyed immediately.

Ms. Darkhölme took her own seat behind the desk, and dug out some files. Flipping through them, she barely blinked as she scanned the contents. Jason and Piotr barely breathed; something about this woman terrified them so much that they didn't even dare make a noise. After what seemed like an eternity, Miss Darkhölme finally spoke. "Everything seems to be in order. Welcome to Bayville High."

Jason finally worked up the courage to speak. "Th-thank you, Miss Darkhölme."

Miss Darkhölme folded her hands together and placed them on the desk firmly. "Now get this straight, Mr. Downs. While Professor Xavier holds a great interest with the school board, that will not allow you to get away with mischief. You are any other student, and you will be disciplined like any other student if you cross the line! Am I understood!"

"Perfectly, Ms. Darkhölme!"

Ms. Darkhölme turned sharply to Piotr. "That applies to you too, Mr. Rasputin."

Piotr nodded quickly. "Y-Yes, Ms. Darkhölme!"

"Good." Her fingers dove into the folders and pulled out a piece of paper from each. "These are your schedules for this term. We have a strict attendance policy, so you'd better be on time, both of you. I don't have time to dawdle with irresponsible children!" Ms. Darkhölme relaxed slightly. "You are dismissed."

The sudden change of subject confused the both of them, and both had to mentally catch up. "Thank you, Principal Darkhölme," Jason managed. "Come on, Peter." Neither said a word as they left the office, and even when they were outside of it. When they made it past the receptionist's desk, Jason suddenly leaned against the wall for support. "Holy hell…" Jason breathed.

"I do not understand," Piotr finally said. "Why was she so angry?"

Jason turned around to face Piotr but his back still was braced against the wall. "I think it's kind of the law of women principals: be scary, be _very_ scary…"

Piotr blinked in confusion. "I still do not understand."

Jason pursed his lips. "Neither do I, Peter."

"Well, lookie here!" said a voice quickly.

Jason nearly jumped a foot in the air as he spun to face the new present. There leaning casually on the wall next to him was a lanky teen a hair younger than Jason was. His hair was pure white and looked streamlined, and his face seemed like it was made to carry a cocky smirk 24/7.

"Whoahoho!" the kid laughed. "Might be a little slow, but those reflexes, mm! Nice touch, but still not nearly as fast as me."

Jason barely heard the high-speed critique. "Who are you?"

"Name's Maximoff. Pietro Maximoff." With that, he dashed around Jason to his other side. "And just what are you dweebs doing?" He seemed to glower at Piotr, who looked like he had a boulder stuck in his throat.

Jason spun around again, completely surprised at the show of speed from this "Pietro." "What the—?"

Pietro clicked his tongue. "Still too slow. Come on, man! I've seen snails move faster than you!"

Jason could only sputter.

At that instant, Principal Darkhölme swung open to door to the office and saw the debacle after hearing it from inside. "What is going on here?"

Pietro spun around himself to face the principal, his smirk gone. "Uh, nothing Ms. Darkhölme! Just checking out the new guy."

Ms. Darkhölme's expression darkened. "Well, I suggest you'd best stop checking and start going to class! All of you!"

"Yes, Ms. Darkhölme!" the three said in unison.

Ms. Darkhölme slammed the door shut, causing all of them to jump. Jason let himself breath again, when Pietro put his smirk back on. "You heard her, geek. At this rate, you'll be late for sure." With that, Pietro took off away at a walk.

Jason stood dumbfounded for several seconds before shaking himself out of it. "Dude, what a jerk. Still, I've never seen anyone move that fast before!"

Piotr made no answer, but only stared.

Jason was startled by the lack of response from his colleague and friend. "Peter? What is it? You look like you just seen a ghost!"

"Jason," Piotr said, suddenly sad. "I know him."

"Pietro?"

"Yes."

Jason was about to ask how, when he suddenly got a bad feeling about it. "I think we should talk about it later, like, back at the Institute."

Piotr looked down. "I should not have come here."

"Hey, don't let that jerk get you down. I don't know how you know him really, but if he's got beef with you, I'm going to have beef with him."

Piotr allowed himself to look back up and smile weakly.

Jason returned with a slightly more radiant smile. "That's better." Jason looked at his schedule. "I've got Algebra. What do you have?"

Piotr looked at his own. "English."

Jason grimaced. "Not the ideal class to start the morning with. Come on, we'll find the room before I have to go."

* * *

><p>Inside the Principal's office, Ms. Darkhölme sat behind her desk doing some paperwork when her aide called in on the phone. "Ms. Darkhölme?"<p>

"What is it, Kathy?" she replied, trying not to sound terribly cross.

"Mr. Todd Tolanski is here to see you."

"Send him in."

A few moments later, the door opened to permit admittance to probably the scrawniest and filthiest teenager Ms. Darkhölme had ever seen. Everything about him smelled poor hygiene, quite literally in this sense. Ms. Darkhölme at once grimaced as the pungent smell of body odor blasted through the air like a bomb. "Sit, Mr. Tolanski, while I open a window."

Todd hopped into the chair, literally, and he sat on in a frog-like position as his sickly eyes scoped the otherwise neat room. "Yeah, whatever."

Ms. Darkhölme finally sat down. "Now, Mr. Tolanski, I have a job for you."

This interested Todd. "Oh, yeah?"

"Surely you have heard about the students that come here from the Xavier Insitute."

"Yeah?" The gangly kid scratched his ear. "What about 'em?"

Ms. Darkhölme got up from her chair and walked around the desk. "Let's just say that I have a substantial interest in what they really are there, and what they do."

For some reason, that unsettled Todd. "Uh, listen, I don't want no—"

But Ms. Darkhölme cut him off. "Now, 'Toad,' that is what they call you, right?"

Todd didn't expect to hear his well-earned nickname from the principal. "Yeah, what about it?"

"I've been watching you since you came to this school," Ms. Darkhölme said with a smile. "If you do this little thing for me, I can give you a very interesting proposal for you, Toad."

Todd was about to ask what, when he noticed Ms. Darkhölme's eyes changed from slate-gray to gold in an instant. Amazed briefly, he then smiled and licked his plaque-infested teeth with his green tongue. "So, what did you have in mind?"

* * *

><p><em>A few hours later…<em>

Jason was slowly working with his locker, trying to get the hang of the finicky tumblers of his combination lock. Pursing his lips in annoyance, he continued to work despite the fact that technology was not cooperating. Finally, the locker gave and surrendered whatever was stored inside.

"Hey, Jason!"

Jason nearly jumped into his locker at hearing his name. Regaining his composure, he turned to see Jean had stopped by his locker. Jason sighed. "Jean, don't scare me like that. I nearly made the locker my permanent residence."

Jean had to laugh. "Sorry; I was just seeing if your first day was going all right."

Jason shoved a couple of books into his locker. "As good as can be expected: the principal is scary and I met my first jerk. Typical first day in high school, I guess…"

"Yeah, this school has it all. At least you didn't nearly get pummeled by a cannonball."

Jason smirked at that; she was referring to his own arrival at the Institute and he had to duck an out-of-control Sam Guthrie only two days prior. "Well let's not just jinx it; P.E. is later this afternoon." He closed the locker door.

"Anyway, I just thought to check in on you. The first day is always rough here."

"Tell me about it."

"And don't worry about Principal Darkhölme; she's like that. Just behave and you should be fine."

"Don't have to tell me twice; even Peter was rattled."

"You should have seen Scott on his first day. I thought his glasses were going to blast off from his eyes opening so wide."

"Can't say I blame him."

"Well, you'd better get to lunch. It's too short here." Jean turned to go. "Hope the rest of your day goes well."

Jason was touched. "Thanks, Jean." As she left, Jason turned to his locker again, and suddenly he remembered that he left something he needed inside. "Damn it! My schedule!" So, he worked the locker open again and fetched the schedule from inside. "Man, if my head wasn't attached to my shoulders, I'd probably forget that too."

"Yo, newbie."

Jason nearly jumped into his locker again; crying out in frustration, he slammed the door shut and spun to face the new arrival. "What!"

"Yo, chill!" With that, the stranger swung up on top of the row of lockers as if it was perfectly natural to do. "What's up?"

Jason looked up to this new kid. Jason grimaced when he finally caught a pungent smell emitting from him. "That…quite a jump you got."

"Like it?" The kid squatted frog-like on the lockers. "Name's Todd Tolanski, but call me 'Toad'."

"'_Toad'? Fitting,_" Jason thought. Then he asked aloud. "Ok, what do you want?"

"You one of those Institute geeks, right?"

Jason looked strangely at Toad at that question, and suddenly the implications of that question put him on guard. Scowling slightly, he replied, "What about it?"

Toad hopped from his perched, then off of the opposite wall before reaching the ground gracefully. "See, you and me, we're different from the others."

Jason willed his heart to stay calm; this guy was fishing and he wasn't about to bite. "Oh yeah? How?"

"You might say we got something they don't, something cool."

Jason sighed exasperatedly. "What do you want, Toad?"

"I just wanna talk," Toad said, as he leaped towards the lockers again. When he landed, he hung onto the top of the lockers as he hung on the side. "Get to know each other…maybe do lunch."

Jason hoped that didn't mean what he thought that meant. "Yeah...I'll think about it." Without another word, Jason walked off past Toad.

Toad looked over his shoulder towards where Jason left. "Yeah, you think about that, Scarface. I got other stuff to do."

* * *

><p>Back in the Institute, the Professor was reading in his study when a beeping from his desk diverted his attention. Putting down the book, the Professor went to the desk to press a button underneath its mantle. Nearby, the bookcase opened up to reveal a hidden elevator. Wordlessly, he took the elevator to his next destination: the Cerebro Chamber. The earlier beeping told the Professor that Cerebro had discovered yet another mutant.<p>

In due process, he reached Cerebro and entered in. As he travelled down the narrow walkway in the spherical chamber, the computer interface kicked to life as a female voice greeted him, "Welcome Professor."

The Professor ignored it and typed on a few buttons on the control panel. At once, a giant holographic screen materialized in front of him, showing a satellite image of Bayville High School. In one of the many hallways, a single red blip flashed on the screen, every once in a while changing position. The Professor's brow fell over his eyes in concern, when the extrapolation of the reading finally finished, averting the Professor's suspicions. The readings were new; had the reading been caused by one of the students at the Institute, Cerebro would have linked it to an archive file immediately. This was not the case.

The Professor read over the report:

_Name: Todd Tolanski  
><em>_Age: 15  
><em>_Height: 5'3"  
><em>_Weight: 115 lbs.  
><em>_Residence: Unknown  
><em>_Genetic anomaly confirmed: amphibian-like DNA detected, relative to order _Anura_._

The Professor's eyes widened slightly. If this report was accurate and if this Todd Tolanski did possess the X-Gene, it manifested to imitate the DNA of frogs and toads. That would certainly explain the pale skin and posture this boy seemed to possess.

Cerebro kept noting Todd actively using his ability in the school and outside of it. The Professor grew concerned; if that kept up, this boy could inadvertently reveal mutant and other so-called meta-humans to the public, and that wouldn't end well. They would have to intervene soon.

At once, something else buzzed on the control panel: the communicator. Someone was calling the Professor from the outside of the Institute. Only Scott and Jean knew how to do that. Opening the line, he answered. "Yes, Scott?"

A voice on the other end replied. _"Geez, Professor! You know it creeps me out when you do that!"_

The Professor chuckled. "Sorry, Scott. What did you need?"

"_Well, Jason came up during lunch and told me about a little encounter he had before lunch. He's here to run it by you."_

The Professor could see what this was going to be about. "Put him on."

A few seconds later, Jason's voice poured through. _"Hello?"_

"Jason, how can I help you?"

"_I ran into someone just a bit ago…and I have a feeling he's kind of like us."_

"Yes," the Professor reached for a helmet-like device with wires leading from it. "Todd Tolanski."

"_You know him?" _

"Cerebro has just picked up his reading at the school." Placing the helmet on his own head, he continued. "It appears that Mr. Tolanski is using his powers in the open and most decidedly."

"_Yeah, he was pretty flamboyant about showing them off. But there's more, someone tipped him off about the Institute. He knew, Professor, and almost came right out and said it."_

That was something the Professor didn't expect; however, he hazarded a guess at who it might be, yet thought it prudent not to discuss it right now. "He may be fishing, Jason. I trust you didn't say anything."

"_No, I played dumb the entire time. He gave up after a bit."_

"Thank you, Jason. What can you tell me about him?"

"_Not much, except he has the hygiene of a dead pig."_

"We can't turn away anyone, Jason; remember that."

"_Yes, sir. Do you want Scott and me to bring him in?"_

"Leave that to me, Jason. You just concentrate on school."

"_Yes, sir. Do you need to speak with Scott again?"_

"Unless he has something else to say, there's no need."

"_No, that's it. Thanks, Professor."_

"You're welcome."

Jason hung up on his end, leaving the Professor to his own devices, in a manner of speaking. Concentrating with Cerebro, he locked in on the new discovery and left a little impression in his brain, just enough to lead this new discovery to the Institute tonight. When that was completed, Charles removed the helmet device and left the room, and couldn't help but wonder what tonight will bring.

* * *

><p><em>Several hours later…<em>

Jason and Piotr had retreated into their room to work on homework. To both of them, the first day was a long and rough one, coupled by receiving more homework than either had anticipated. So, very quickly after supper, they got immediately to work. Jason was wrapping up his World History sectional review while Piotr was struggling through English. He had put it aside in lieu of doing Algebra II and his preliminary sketches for a still life art assignment due later in the week, but now English needed to be done. His assignment was about identifying simple sentence structures in a sentence, but being someone not fluent in English, it was trying.

"Need help at all, Peter?" Jason said, after closing his History book.

"Not yet, I want to try to do this myself."

"Ok." Jason got up from his desk to stretch. "Ugh, remind me not to sit so long in one position…or maybe that's P.E. talking."

Piotr smiled at that, but then sobered up. "How did your first lesson with Dr. Strange go?"

Jason sat down on his bed as he recalled his first lessons in alchemy earlier that afternoon. "I guess all right. We didn't even do any alchemy there, really. It was just a little of the basics."

"Like what?"

"Mostly about transmutation circles, and how they work. Apparently there is a great flow of some mystical energy throughout the universe that flows through us and everything, connecting us all with each other and to everything. Like all flows, they can be diverted some to feed something else, but never can they go backwards. It's like a river; you can dam it up or dig a new river to divert the flow, but you can't make it flow backwards.

"By understanding the powers of that energy, one can divert it within himself to do different things; however, the way that flow works is finicky. If you don't do it just right, you get completely different results. A transmutation is one gateway to use it. Using an array, they can make it flow in just the right way to transmute the desired shape or cause. The more advanced the circle, the more specific the energy can be diverted."

Piotr looked thoroughly confused. "I-I don't really understand."

"It's okay; you don't have to, although I have to."

"If you do not understand, how come you can do it without these circles?"

Jason shrugged. "I doubt I'm going to get to answer that question right now. Not even Dr. Strange is really sure. Apparently I'm a very special case: no one is supposed to be able to achieve even the most basic alchemy without a transmutation circle, yet…I just can. I can't explain it. It would be the exact same deal if I asked you how the hell your flesh turns into metal by just thinking about it. Scientifically that should be impossible, and that's if the transformation doesn't kill you, but it doesn't and your metal skin is just as flexible as your flesh. Metal is in its very nature not flexible; even lead can't move like that. You can't explain how it does it, can you?"

Piotr looked thoughtful for a second, but relented. "No, I cannot."

"I'm not saying we're breaking the laws of science; we so-called mutants can do something that seems against the laws of science, when in reality, modern science just can't explain it…not yet anyhow. But maybe we'll find the answer someday. Until then, I'll just have to keep looking and learning from the ones that have learned this flow."

Piotr could only nod. There was so much that he could not understand himself, and may never understand…but perhaps that was for the best.

Jason and Piotr didn't talk again when a crack of thunder interrupted their activities. Both of their heads snapped towards the window in shock. "What the heck?"

Piotr put down his homework and pulled back the curtains to reveal a mild storm surging outside. "It's a thunderstorm."

Jason at once began to look antsy. "There wasn't anything in the forecast about a storm."

Piotr didn't even see Jason's growing apprehension. "It must be Storm. I wonder why…"

Jason didn't answer; he knew that Storm had this kind of power and it freaked him out. He used to be fine with storms until the accident; after that, storms terrified him. "I-I think I need to go to the bathroom. I'll be back." Jason then left, rather hurriedly.

Piotr just turned around to see Jason already leaving the room. "Jason?" But Jason didn't turn to acknowledge that he heard. He was already gone. Piotr could only stand and stare, wondering what just happened.

* * *

><p><em>Several minutes earlier…<em>

It was a clear night with fair weather, barely even a breath of wind in the humid air. However, that didn't seem to bother one particular night prowler tonight. Todd Tolanski, having long traded out his ratty clothes for a white-and-green reinforced body suit that only added to his frog-ish appearance. As he hopped along through the woods outside Bayville, he came upon a cast-iron picket fence. He took one look at it and immediately smirked. _"Cake,"_ he thought. With one heave, he frog-leaped right over the fence with ease, and hopped along through the woods. This Institute he thought shouldn't be that far away now.

As he hopped along, a shadow flew overhead. Looking upwards, he saw it fly by again: some kind of slender figure with white hair and a black cape. It flew over one more time, and just as it did, clouds built up menacingly, covering the moon and darkening the night even more. Before the Toad could even begin to comprehend what he just saw, a flash of lightning and a clap of thunder shot through the air, and then it began to rain.

Toad couldn't believe it! Someone here could control the weather? Now that was just freaky.

Toad barely finished that thought, when out of nowhere a bolt of lightning stuck the ground at his feet. Leaping back in pure surprise, he looked up, just in time to see another one race towards him. Needless to say, he ran for his life.

* * *

><p>Above the grounds of the Institute, Storm was enjoying the night, waiting for the new arrival. Earlier that day, the Professor had asked her to "audition" him as it were to see what he could do. When she spotted him, she summoned a modest thunderstorm and decided to get this "Toad" moving. With a few strategically placed bolts, the little frog will hop to relative safety towards the Institute. He was getting close now. Once he was inside, Nightcrawler should put his agility to the test.<p>

* * *

><p>Nightcrawler waited patiently inside, hanging upside down with his tail from the chandelier as he did. The Professor had told him that the new guy they found just today was quite the leaper, and to see just what he can do, Nightcrawler was asked to give him a bit of a field test. Storm was already outside rounding him up, so to speak; all he had to do now was wait.<p>

"Kurt?"

Kurt twisted around to see Jason standing on the second floor balcony, staring at him strangely. "Oh, _guten nacht_, Jason!"

"What the hell are you doing?"

"Just hanging around."

"No joke, but why from the chandelier?"

"Why else?"

Jason was about ask another question, but eventually gave up.

"What are you doing out here?"

"I don't care for storms."

"And you came here where there's windows everywhere?"

"I'm still trying to get the hang of this place and made a wrong turn." Jason sighed suddenly. "Hey, Kurt?"

"_Ja_?"

"Can I talk to you?"

"Aren't we already?"

Jason sneered. "Very funny." Then he looked serious. "I've been meaning to talk to you since we first met—"

Before he got the chance to continue, the doors blew open, allowing a gust of wind to rip through. Jason braced himself against the wind, when he heard something like screaming, like someone was being blown in form the outside.

Just as fast as the wind had picked up, it stopped. Jason looked over the side to see someone familiar. "You?"

Todd recovered himself, and saw Jason looking down from above. "Hey, Scarface!"

Jason looked insulted at that, but before he could react, Kurt teleported away in a cloud of brimstone, then reappearing in the same way at the bottom of the stairs. "Has your _mutter_ ever told you it's rude to call people names?"

Todd's eyes nearly bulged out of his head when he saw Kurt in all his fuzzy glory. "Whoa, what are you supposed to be? A ratty plush toy?"

Kurt ignored the shot, but grimaced at the smell, which the rain did nothing to quench. "The name's 'Nightcrawler,' and at least _I_ don't stink like unwashed lederhosen."

Jason fought a laugh from where he stood.

Todd's however was not amused. "You blue-furred freak!" And he leaped at Kurt savagely, but only ended up in a cloud of brimstone. "Hey, where'd he go?" He accidentally took a whiff of the cloud. "Euck! And he says_ I_ stink?"

"Well, Toad," Jason called back. "You do smell like you live in a septic tank."

Todd's snarled. "Shut up, Capone, before I slime you!"

"As you say in America…" drifted a voice from above. The others looked up to see Kurt hanging by his tail from the chandelier again. "…neener neener neener!"

Todd quickly forgot about Jason. "That ain't going to help you, boy!" he shot back, and leaped up at him.

Kurt swung back and let go with his tail. Twisting around, he was able to leap onto Toad's back just as he past underneath him, then leap right off, landing right on the wall and stuck there. "Too slow!" Kurt smiled and crawled up the wall.

Todd had managed to land on the chandelier and hung there, and saw Nightcrawler crawling up the wall. Not waiting another minute, he leaped at him. Nightcrawler leaped away and Toad followed along the wall.

"Come on!" Kurt said as he leaped onto the stair rail. "You couldn't catch flies on a windshield!" Kurt teleported away just as Todd landed right where Kurt was moments before. With another cloud of brimstone, Kurt reappeared right beside Jason.

Before Jason could react, Todd called out, "Come on and fight like a man, you fuzzy gecko!" Toad leaped at Kurt. Kurt back-flipped onto the wall behind Jason and climbed up it, causing Toad to leap right into Jason, sending both sprawling to the floor with a cry. Todd didn't even stop to apologize and continued on, breathing his own threats.

Jason lie there, his face wrinkled in a severe grimace as if he swallowed a sour grape. "Ugh, oh my God! Now we_ both_ stink! I'm going to have to shower for a week!"

As Nightcrawler and Toad continued their little course on the walls, Storm came in through the front door and saw the commotion on the walls. She didn't have any time to do anything about it when Professor Xavier came in from an adjacent hall, having keeping track of the events in the room via telepathy. "Mr. Tolanski is indeed gifted…he _could_ be one of us…"

Storm sighed. "Sometimes I think your good heart blinds even you, Professor."

To punctuate her sentiment, there was a crash as Nightcrawler had jumped onto a bust and sent it crashing down, only to leap away as Toad followed. "Get your ass over here so I can kick it, Wookiee-boy—oh, you're starting to tick me off now…" Nightcrawler and Toad began blazing through the halls, knocking and breaking anything that was in their way.

Toad finally had enough and resorted to try to catch his slippery adversary with his tongue, repeatedly shooting it out. Kurt was too quick and would dodge or teleport away just before it hit. Finally, they came back into the front parlor, and by the way they were going were likely going to tear it apart too.

"This test is over!" the Professor shouted. Everyone froze in their place, even Jason who was now recovering from the stink-bomb he got. "Todd Tolanski is exhibiting a manifestation of the X-Gene. He is welcome to join us at the Institute, if he so desires."

Toad didn't look interested, at least towards the proposal. "You know something? All I _desire_ is fuzzy's boney little head!" With that, he shot his tongue out again.

Kurt, who was not paying attention at the time, found his arm wrapped around with a slimy tongue. "Eww! Let go of me, you little toad!" With that, he dropped like a stone, dragging Todd with him.

Jason saw that both would land right on their head. "Watch out, Kurt!"

Almost instinctively, Kurt teleported away but also taking Todd with him with a bamf! The Professor, Storm and Jason looked at the resulting cloud for some time. "Where'd he go?" Jason said aloud.

* * *

><p>When Kurt came to, he found himself in a dark place lying on a cold floor. "Ugh, I have got to work on my re-entries."<p>

Nearby Todd started to stir himself, working himself up to a squatting position. "Dang, where are we?"

Kurt looked around, but it was too dark to see anything. "Uh, I don't know."

"You don't know?" Toad snapped. "You brought us here, blueboy!"

Just then, the lights turned on, revealing a metal round room with an observation deck in the middle. Both blinked in the change of light, and just heard a harsh male computerized voice kick on. _"System alert! Unidentified user within perimeters. Activating automatic defenses. System alert! Commence lockdown."_

Kurt suddenly knew where he brought them: the Danger Room.

"Uh oh…" both Kurt and Todd voiced.

* * *

><p>"<em>X-Men, report to the Danger Room quickly! Nightcrawler has teleported Todd Tolanski and himself into the Danger Room! Get them out of there!"<em> the Professor's mental voice cried out in earnest.

"_On it!"_ Scott's voice echoed back.

Aloud, the Professor called to both Storm and Jason. "Quickly, get to the Danger Room before the automatic defenses dispatch Mr. Tolanski!"

Jason was immediately on his feet. "Yes, Professor!" With that, he took off, followed by Storm. The Professor went on his own way. Hopefully he would arrive to shut the Danger Room down before anyone got seriously hurt.

* * *

><p>Todd screamed like a little girl as a tentacle-like device with a clamp on it snatched at him as he leaped away, trying not to wet himself in the process. Kurt leaped away in the opposite direction as turrets aimed their pulse lasers at him and fired. Kurt was always thankful he could teleport, but he was never this thankful.<p>

Todd however was not faring so well. It seemed like every turret and tentacle was out to make paste out of him. He didn't even want to admit just how his leaping and instincts saved his little ass. Suddenly, he found himself cornered between two platforms that rose up around him, and now were closing him on him to crush him. Toad tried hopping over, but came up short and smacked himself on the rim, knocking him back down into danger. Toad braced himself for the worst.

"Tolanski!" a voice cried out, seconds before a red blast of energy utterly destroyed the offending platforms. "Over here!"

Toad looked over the debris to find Scott Summers blasting away at the turrets with his eyes. _"Whoa! This place really _is_ a house of freakies!"_

Nightcrawler teleported out of the grip of an obnoxious clamping tentacle, but it went after him again. He couldn't teleport away in time, when he suddenly found himself yanked away by an unseen force. Spinning around, he found Jean hovering high above the ground with an arm extended towards him. Kurt smiled relieved. "You are an angel, Jean!"

Jean smiled and laughed. "On occasion. What are you, a demon?"

Cyclops continued to blast away, at the rogue defenses. "Shadowcat! Rogue! Colossus! Clear a path for Todd!"

In rushed three other figures: two women and one hulking male. One of the girls, Shadowcat, ran through the perimeter and phased through anything that got in her way, shorting out the turrets and tentacles. The male, Colossus, grew in size as his flesh turned metal, and he charged right in, his metallic footsteps clanging on the floor. Any tentacle that came to get him was grabbed and ripped apart.

Rogue charged in behind Colossus, straight to where Todd sat stunned. Reaching him, she called out. "Snap out of it, frogboy!"

"Rogue! Look out!" came a frantic cry from Colossus.

Rogue turned to see five turrets training on her position, but before she could react, a long panel appeared out of the ground with a whoosh, blocking its fire. Rogue blinked; the Danger Room never intervened in protecting the people inside.

Everyone else was rather stunned to see that too, until Scott turned to see Jason, not in uniform, standing behind him with one hand, sparkling with alchemic energy, clapped against the floor. Another laser blast distracted Scott again. He spun around only to find a bolt of lightning strike it dead. Soon after, Storm descended from above to assist.

The whole show continued on briefly until Professor Charles Xavier descended into the observation room and rushed to the console. "Security code override! Priority X. Voiceprint: Charles Xavier!"

"_Confirmed,"_ replied the computer. _"Shutdown in five seconds."_

Those five seconds seemed to drag to those below in the Danger Room, but once they passed, the remaining turrets and tentacles all retracted into the wall. All shared a collective sigh of relief.

Todd was not happy. "Are you guys freaking nuts! You still want me to join you wacks after this? No way, I'm hoppin' out!" And before anyone could say a word, he disappeared through the open door.

"Todd, wait!" Jason called out, but it was too late. Slowly getting up, he slowly looked around at all the damage. "Well, that went well. Tell me I didn't just screw up that recruitment."

"_It's all right, Jason,"_ Professor said over the intercom. _"He wasn't ready to be one of us."_

Jason only sighed.

"Hey, don't sweat it, tough guy." Scott laid a hand on Jason's shoulder. "Even if he was ready, I get the feeling he didn't want to be with us anyway."

Jason looked up at Scott and nodded.

As the others began walking to the door, Jason called out to Rogue. "You're okay, Rogue?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," Rogue said. "Thanks."

"Anytime."

"That was like the coolest thing I've ever seen, Jason!" said Shadowcat, who ran up to Jason.

Jason smiled; Kitty's enthusiasm was often catchy. "Not as cool as phasing through walls, Kitty."

"Are you all right, Jason?" Piotr asked as he walked by.

Jason looked up at Piotr. "Yeah, I'll be fine. Just got a little jolted."

"No, I mean earlier."

Jason remembered how he walked out suddenly because of the storm. "Yeah…I will be. I'll tell you about it later."

Piotr nodded concernedly, but left the room just the same.

Jason turned to see the mess. "Well, I guess I should clean this up a bit…"

"You don't have to, Jason," Jean said. "This happens all the time."

"No, it's okay. I want to do this."

Jean shrugged. "Ok, see you later."

"Yeah," Jason sighed, and walked towards the nearest last blast scar.

* * *

><p>Todd hurried his way up various flights of stairs back into the above-ground parts of the mansion, and hopped down various hallways and started to panic. He was lost. Finally, he found a window and decided to hop through it. The window burst open as he blew through it, but then he found himself crashing through various pieces of patio furniture as he fell. Shaking himself, he got up to run some more.<p>

_Snikt! _

Todd heard a noise that made his blood go cold; sounded like unsheathing of dagger. Then, he looked up and found the source of the noise. To his credit, he did not wet his uniform.

The new stranger, dressed in a biker's outfit and sporting a dusty cowboy hat, glowered down at Todd. As he did, he clenched his fist, causing three identical metal foot-long claws to shoot out through the flesh between his knuckles with a snikt-sound that Toad had heard before. He growled, "Going somewhere, bub?"

Todd was scared spit-less and didn't dare move.

The stranger sniffed the air, and his eyes began to narrow furiously as a growl rumbled in his throat.

"No, Logan!" called a voice from above.

Both "Logan" and Todd looked up to see Professor Xavier on the outside balcony looking down on them.

"Let him go."

Logan looked back at Todd as his mind debated what to do. Todd could tell that this man would rather slice him up than let him go, and waited tensely. Finally, with a sigh that sounded more like a growl, Logan retracted his claws and stepped aside. "Get out of here."

Todd was only too willing to oblige and ran for it.

Logan looked after him briefly. "I come and I immediately smell trouble…" Logan sniffed again. "Then again, that was probably just stinkpot there."

The Professor smiled. "I wish it was; welcome home, friend. We missed you."

Logan gave a ghost of a smile in return, but frowned again upon seeing the wreak patio furniture. "So, what did I miss?"

* * *

><p>Jason clapped his hands together, and placed them on the wall he created to save Rogue. At once, it melted again into the floor as if it never did come up. Upon that, Jason brushed his hands and shook the pain out of them as he looked around. Aside from the broken turrets and tentacles, the room was good as new. He didn't dare touch them as he didn't know enough about electrical circuitry to attempt to mend them.<p>

_Bamf!_ "You're still down here?"

Jason willed himself not to jump as much as he did earlier at school. "Yeah, just thought to patch things up a bit. What are you doing down here, Kurt?"

"Well," Kurt began. "You said you wanted to talk to me earlier before Toad dropped in."

"Oh, yeah," Jason rubbed a hand through his hair. "Listen, I need to apologize."

Kurt's yellow eyes blinked. "For what?"

"A couple of days ago, when I first met you…" Jason rubbed the back of his neck. "I—well—you kind of freaked me out. I mean, I got a bit freaked out when I saw you. I…I shouldn't have just stared at you like I did. I'm sorry…"

At once, Kurt smiled. "Hey, everyone does it."

"Doesn't make it right. It was hypocritical of me to be afraid of you like that being a mutant, and I shouldn't have. God, I shouldn't have." Jason sighed. "I hope you can forgive me for that."

Kurt was touched. "Hey, water under the bridge, right? And I know I look very different than most other mutants. If it helps, your reaction was one of the best I've seen." Kurt then looked down sadly. "Back home, so many people were afraid of how I looked, but I didn't hate them you know; I pitied them."

Jason blinked in surprise. "Why?"

"Because so many people will never be able to see anything beyond their own two eyes, which is why I'm thankful to find people who are willing to try to see."

Jason smiled; he really had misjudged Kurt, but not for his appearance. Kurt had a little more wisdom than he let on. "Thanks, Kurt."

"_Bitte __sch__ö__n_. Well, where do we go from here?"

"You tell me," Jason said, as both of them headed for the open door. "That reminds me: I've been hearing that you love something called a Burger Bomb. What's that?"

Kurt's eyes lit up. "Oh, _mein fruend_, You haven't lived until you've tried one! Hey, before school tomorrow, I'll take you to go get one. Deal?"

"Deal."

* * *

><p><em>The next day…<em>

"I can't believe this!"

Todd wilted under the tirade by Ms. Darkhölme in her office. He knew he was going to get it when he reported in; he just hoped he would live to hop again.

"You were actually inside the mansion…and _you ran away!_"

"Hey, I freaked, Ms. Darkhölme; sue me." As Ms. Darkhölme continued to pace, Toad gulped before continuing. "I did the best I could."

Ms. Darkhölme wasn't listening. "And no doubt the good Professor wiped your mind so you can't remember anything!"

Todd tried to remember, but everything between tussling with the fuzzy blue freak and running for his life from a bloodthirsty guy with claws, he couldn't remember diddlysquat. Merely, he just shrugged.

Snarling, Ms. Darkhölme opened the door and pointed out. "Get out! GET OUT NOW!"

Todd obeyed quickly, yelping as he did.

As soon as he was out, Ms. Darkhölme slammed the door so hard that it shook on its hinges. Her anger not yet sated, she picked up the chair and slammed it against the floor with a bang and promptly changed her form…into a slender reptilian-looking blue-skinned woman with venom-yellow eyes, dressed in a tight-fitting dress with skulls on the hips.

As she was beginning to burn out from her fury, the metal chair on the floor began to shake. Distracted, she looked at it briefly, and nearly paled. Suddenly, one of her drawers opened and paper clips began flying about the room.

"_Do not be too hard on the boy, Mystique. We wouldn't want to scare away a promising recruit, do we?"_ said a low voice.

Mystique sat against the desk nervously. "No, sir!"

"_Good. While the mission to scope the mansion was unsuccessful, it will not delay us."_

Mystique willed herself to calm down. "Sir, both the Alchemist and Colossus have enrolled here."

"_As I suspected. Charles was foolish to let both those two come into public, a decision he will regret later."_

"What shall we do?"

"_Keep an eye on them, as will Quicksilver. Colossus will be easy; the challenge will be Alchemist, but by no means impossible."_

"How shall we proceed?"

"_We shall appeal to Jason's other virtues to recruit him; force failed, so more coercive measures are necessary. And when he begins to waver, I will step in."_

Mystique allowed herself a cruel smile. "And what of Colossus?"

"_His treachery will be dealt with once we find his family, and once that is over, I will crush him like a can."_

A deadly laugh emitted in Mystique's throat.

"_Alchemist will find himself the spearhead for securing our future, one way or another."_ As the voice continued, a silhouette of a man in a purple cape and a face hidden by a large helmet shown in the window, his eyes seemingly glowing yellow. _"We may have lost the battle in Oklahoma, but the war is only beginning…"_

* * *

><p><em>That was fun! Definitely the biggest chapter I wrote, and there will be more. Here's a preview for the next chapter:<em>

_Jason is starting to settle in at the Institute as well as at his new school, but when an old nemesis of Logan's pops by, things fly south quickly. Stay tuned for Chapter 2: Tooth and Claw._

_Some content of this chapter was adapted from _X-Men Evolution_ episodes, namely "Episode 1: Strategy-X" and "Episode 14: Growing Pains." Feel free to watch _X-Men Evolution_ on iTunes or YouTube through Marvel's official channel. _


	3. Chapter 2: Tooth and Claw

**CHAPTER 2:**** Tooth and Claw**

* * *

><p><em>Thursday, August 18<em>_th__, 2011 – 8:41 PM_

"_Touchdown! Touchdown! B, B, B-A-Y! B, V-I-L-L-E! Go, Bayville!"_

The crowd was electrified at the season opener for the Bayville Hawks football team, and for good reason. This opener was against Bayville's big-time rival, the Lattington Panthers, and the Hawks were pummeling them, 42-17. Bayville, however, was not done. Both teams lined up at the Panthers' 12-yard line, the Panthers desperate to keep Bayville's star quarterback Duncan Matthews from getting another sinker into the endzone.

Duncan squatted behind his center. "Blue-22! Blue-22!" he called out as he scoped the field, noting the shifty cornerbacks. "Hut!" The ball snapped into his hands as he ran back to pass. Suddenly, a Panther linebacker broke through the offensive line and charged right at Duncan. Duncan narrowly dodged a sack and took off right and down field. The crowd's cheering blew up as Duncan ran down the field, narrowly missing tackles and pushes to knock him out of bounds. Suddenly, one safety tackled him hard from behind, but it was too late. Duncan Matthews splattered into the endzone. As the whistle blew, declaring the touchdown, a red-haired beautiful woman was eagerly taking pictures of the tackle.

Duncan noticed and smile. "Hey, Jean! Did you get a good picture for the yearbook?"

The woman, Jean, laughed. "Oh, I got plenty for the yearbook. These are for my personal collection."

Up in the stands, there were a couple of people on the Bayville side of the field that didn't share the enthusiasm. Watching Jean and Duncan from his seat was Scott Summers. His eyes scowled enviously as he saw Duncan get up and lovingly put his arm around Jean as he walked off the field, all the while twiddling with a quarter between his knuckles.

Unaware of Scott's jealousy, Jason and Piotr were discussing the sport of football behind him. "You see there? To score, the offensive team has to carry the football from one side to the other."

Piotr looked annoyed. "I understand that, but why do you Americans call it 'football?' I see you throw it and hand it off, but you barely use their feet, and when you do it always other team that gets it. In football, you always use your feet and it must never be in opponents' possession."

Jason had to fight himself to not laugh. "I think you're talking about soccer."

"No, I'm talking about football. Why you call football 'soccer,' and this sport 'football'?"

Jason finally surrendered to a small giggling fit. "Perhaps because we suck at soccer."

"Aw, man! My cash!"

Both Jason and Piotr looked to see Scott stoop down after dropping his quarter, which unfortunately feel deeper into the bleachers.

"Dang," Jason said. "Could be worse though; you could have dropped your…" Jason noticed a rather pale and scrawny hand reach up into someone's pocket and pull out a wallet, ever so slowly to avoid getting noticed. "…wallet."

Piotr saw it too. "Did you see that?" he said quietly.

Scott. "You bet; looks like someone is taking up a collection."

"And not for the church, I bet…" Jason added. "Should we tell someone?"

"Leave that option open," Scott said, standing up. "I'll check it out myself."

Jason blinked. "Just you?"

"If we all go, people may see something's up and ruin it for everybody. Stay here and be natural."

"Assuming we know what normal is," Jason quipped.

"You know what I mean." Scott started walking down the bleachers.

Jason looked on, when movement caught his eye. Looking, he saw a few of the football players started heading underneath the bleachers. "Uh oh…" Espying Jean on the field, he called out with his thoughts. _"Jean, you might want to check out the underside of the bleachers. Let's just say that litter won't be the only problem under there in a few minutes…"_

* * *

><p>Under the bleachers, a gangly teen was helping himself to the grand supply of wallets in everyone's pockets. Normally, this would have been a difficult feat, but not to the Toad. Climbing up the bleachers was a piece of cake, and his scrawny sticky fingers could slide into people's pockets with ease. Picking out another target, he crawled along and slid his fingers into the unsuspecting victim's back pocket. Slowly but surely, he pulled out a black leather billfold that felt fat in his hands. "Jackpot!" he thought.<p>

Suddenly, he found himself pulled to the ground. Crying out and dropping the wallet, he found himself sprawled in the mud, looking up at his attackers: three members of the Bayville football team, led by Duncan Matthews.

"Well, if it isn't little Toady Tolanski…" Duncan said with a smile.

Toad gulped. Duncan had the reputation of being the class jerky jock, and it was well earned. Shimmying away a bit, Toad smiled sheepishly. "Uh, hi, Duncan. Look, I can explain…"

"Shut up, stinkpot!" Duncan reached down and grabbed up Toad's little body and slammed him against the back side of the bleachers. "I know I'm going to have to shower for a week to get rid of your stink, but if it means pounding you to a pulp, I'll call it payment in full."

"Yeah," said Frank Dillmore, the Hawk's center. "Let's crush him, Dunc'!"

"Let's not…Dunc'," said a voice. "Just chill."

All looked to their right—Toad's left—to see Scott sitting here, barely visible in the darkness, next to the glint of red from his shades.

Scott continued. "The money and wallets are still there; all you have to do is have him return the money, no harm done."

Toad nodded in agreement. "Yeah, see?" Toad held up a fistful of cash. "Here's the money, right here!"

Duncan scowled under his helmet. "What do you care about this schuzzo, Summers?"

"I don't," Scott said, crossing his arms. "But I don't care about three-against-one either. How about we just settle this peacefully and get back to winning the game?"

Toad nodded all the more frantically.

Duncan, however, would not be reasoned with. "You know what I think? I'm going to pound this sucker and you and your stupid sunglasses-at-night can just get lost." To punctuate his point, he slammed Toad into the mud and prepared to give him a savage kick to the head.

"I said, knock it off!" Scott said, shoving Duncan aside into the other two players.

Toad saw his opportunity and took off, hopping away as fast as his little legs could go.

"He's getting away!" said Frank, and took off after him, followed by his teammate. Duncan started as well, but slipped and face-planted into the mud.

Scott felt obliged to be satisfied, and the glowing red light behind his shades agreed with him.

Duncan saw red, and picked himself up. "Big mistake, Summers…" And then he swung at him.

Scott and Duncan traded blows for a few seconds, when someone came under the bleachers to see what was going on, and saw the fight. "Scott, no!" she cried out.

Scott turned to see Jean some distance away, and took a right hook to the face. Dazed, he crashed into the back of the bleachers, the impact knocking off his shades. Before he had the chance to recover, a double blast of optic beams ripped through the air, blasting Duncan off his feet before searing out the bleachers and into the nearby closed snack stand where an unfortunate propane tank lay.

Lattington was trying its best to venture down the field when the snack stand blew up in a fireball. All at the field watched in fear as the explosion pour debris and smoke into the sky. The players and cheerleaders ran for it, as did the spectators in a panic. Jason and Piotr saw the explosion from where they sat and knew what happened. "Peter, we gotta help Scott!" Jason cried, as both of them took off from the bleachers.

Jason and Piotr fought the pandemonium as they descended the stairs and around the corner. There, they found Jean, who had taken cover. "Jean, are you all right?" Jason called.

"Yeah, I'm not hurt, but Scott and Duncan are still under there!" Jean said.

"Come on, we'll dig them out."

"Don't use powers unless you have to," Jean said.

A wordless mutual agreement was shared among the three as they dove under the bleachers. Some parts of wood paneling were ablaze from Scott's searing blasts. "Whatever we need to do, we'd better do it quick," Jason said.

"There's Scott!" Piotr said.

At that declaration, the three of them hopped over and ran around any debris in their way. Jean reached Scott first, "Scott? Are you okay?"

Scott only moaned and held his hands over his eyes.

Jason reached them and looked around for Scott's glasses. "I don't see the glasses anywhere."

Jean looked around as well, when a glint of red caught her eyes. "There they are, under that piece of wood over there." Jean pointed.

Jason grimaced. "I can't touch that; it's on fire."

"I can get it," Jean said, and reached out. Suddenly, the piece of wood lifted away with invisible hands, revealing the unharmed glasses. Those too lifted up and flew into Jean's hands.

"Well, that's one problem taken care of," Jason said. "Peter, let's try to find Duncan."

Piotr nodded, and then both he and Jason left Jean and Scott alone. Alone now, Jean said to Scott, "Scott, relax a bit."

Slowly, Scott lowered his hands from over his eyes, permitting Jean to put the ruby-quartz glasses over them. Scott's eyes fluttered open to see Jean in the shades of red that was Scott's world. "Jean?" Slowly, the past few minutes returned to Scott's mind. "Oh, wow, I really messed up…"

"Shh, I know," Jean said soothingly, as she looked around. "Look, you'd better get out of there. Jason and Piotr and looking for Duncan, and you shouldn't be here when the fire department gets here."

Scott looked down. "Yeah…"

Meanwhile, Piotr and Jason found Duncan unconscious outside the bleachers. "Wow, that blast sent him out here."

"What should we do?" Piotr said.

"Don't touch or move him. I'm going to go find one of the coaches; a paramedic should be by soon. I'll be right back!"

A few minutes later, the fire department, an ambulance and a police cruiser pulled up to control the situation. Jason had called to a paramedic to Duncan's location, and both he and Piotr helped secure Duncan into a stretcher as a police officer came over. A paramedic had just removed Duncan's cracked helmet. Duncan moaned softly as the helmet slid off. "Try not to move, son…" the paramedic said.

The police officer looked at Duncan. "I'm Officer Wheatley. Do you remember anything that happened?"

Duncan blinked wearily. "My head…can't remember…" he moaned.

The paramedic shone a light into Duncan's eyes and noted the sluggish response by the irises. "Concussion. He must have taken quite a hit."

Officer Wheatley turned to Jason and Piotr. "Do you two know anything that happened?"

Jason spoke up. "I don't know how this will really help. Peter and I were watching the game from the stands when the snack stand blew up, and I mean blew up. I've seen oil crane fires back at my old home, and it was something like that."

"Did you hear anything before the explosions."

Jason shook his head. "Just the crowds cheering."

Officer Wheatley looked over to where the fire department was dousing the flames. Something just didn't sit right with how the explosion occurred. "Looks to me like something—"

Jason and Piotr didn't dare breathe.

Suddenly, Officer Wheatley blinked strangely, and seemed to change his tone. "—yeah, I'm guessing that some idiot tossed a lit cigar near a leaking propane tank."

Jason and Piotr relaxed.

"Duncan!"

Jason turned to see Jean walk up towards them, and backed off, as did Piotr.

Jean planted herself at Duncan's side. "Duncan, are you all right?"

Duncan managed a smile. "Yeah, it's nothing. Concrete skull, remember? Ow…" Duncan had just barely tapped the side of his head with his hand and it did not feel good.

Jean smiled. "Aww, poor baby…"

"_I think I'm going to be sick…"_ Jason thought nearby.

Jean didn't move, but replied telepathically. _"Better hold it in; the bathroom blew up with the snack stand."_

Jason winced at hearing Jean's thoughts in his head.

A good distance away, Scott had watched Jean leave with Duncan, and sighed to himself. He messed up, all right; big time.

He was brooding so much that he didn't notice someone walk up to him. Toad, having long escaped his would-be tormentors walked up to Scott. "Uh, thanks, Summers. Really, you know?"

Scott only huffed. "Yeah…" And then stormed off for his car.

Toad watched him go with a slight scowl, before crouching in a frog-like posture that earned him his nickname. As he watched, a lone fly buzzed around his head. Toad's eyes followed the bothersome insect briefly, and then his tongue shot out to nab the fly. Sucking it in, Toad chewed a bit then swallowed. "At least I got something tonight."

* * *

><p>Nearby across the street, a limousine sat idle away from the mess of fire trucks, police cruisers and ambulances. In the back seat, an aging bald man rolled up the window, relieved. Cerebro had detected Scott's optic blast beams activate at the football game, and at once Professor Charles Xavier and Storm headed quickly to the field to intercept any potential incriminating evidence. Thankfully, no one seemed to know what caused the propane tank to blow up, although Officer Wheatley was suspicious. With a little mental encouragement, the officer was dissuaded. The Professor was also thankful for Jason and Piotr's handling of the situation. Jason was showing more maturity than many of his same-level peers, the New Mutants, a worthy trait.<p>

"Things seem to be settled for now," the Professor said. "We'd best get back to the Institute. I believe we need to have a talk with a few of our students."

"Yes, Professor," Storm said, starting up the car again and driving it off.

* * *

><p><em>Some time later…<em>

Jason, Jean and Piotr had met up with Scott who drove them back to the Institute in his car. The ride was quiet but tense. Scott was brooding the entire time and they all felt it. When they finally arrived at the Institute, Jason finally had enough. "Come on, Scott, stop blaming yourself for blowing up half the bleachers."

Jean looked at Jason with a slight scowl. "Eloquently put, Jason."

"You know what I mean," Jason turned back to Scott. "Scott, you were trying to stop something bad from happening with Toad and Duncan."

Scott finally answered. "Lot of good it did."

"It's not like you wanted your shades to come flying off."

At this point, all of them had reached the front door to the Institute. Scott growled to Jason. "Just drop it, Jason."

As they entered, they found an unsettling welcoming committee. All froze to see the Professor, Storm and Logan looking at all of them with their own respective knowing look.

Jean spoke up. "We can just blame it all on Jason."

"Hey!"

* * *

><p>Scott sighed; he knew this was coming as soon as he got home but it didn't make it any easier. Now he was here in the Professor's office to have a talk with him. He couldn't blame the Professor; Had his eye-blast been discovered, it would have put mutant anonymity in jeopardy.<p>

The Professor spoke up. "Do you realize that incident at the field was covered on every news channel?"

Scott winced slightly. "Did they see anything?"

The Professor seemed to relax. "No, thankfully."

"I'm sorry, Professor; it was an accident. I was trying to keep Duncan from smashing up Tolanski and we kind of got into it. My glasses got knocked off and…well…you know the rest."

"Yes, I do," the Professor hardened some. "Fortunately, the true cause was not discovered and no one was too badly hurt; however, you need to be more careful, Scott!"

Scott sighed angrily. "Please, Professor! I'm packing a bazooka in each eyeball! What do you want from me?"

"Control, Scott!" the Professor sternly said. "That is what you and everyone else are here to learn."

Scott sighed resignedly.

The Professor relaxed. "Scott, I know that for you, this is extremely difficult. If there was some way we could easier manage your optic-blasts, I would find it, but that's not the case. I'm not questioning your motives, Scott; please understand that."

"I do," Scott said quietly. "And I understand why I need to be careful."

The Professor nodded. "That will be all."

Scott got up to leave, and had made to the door when he stopped. "Professor?"

"Yes, Scott?"

Scott swallowed before answering. "I'm sorry…" Not giving the Professor a chance to respond, he left the room. Scott went only a few steps down the hall when he ran into Jason who was waiting outside.

"What's the damage?" Jason inquired.

"Nothing serious," Scott said sullenly. "I just have to be more careful."

Jason pursed his lips. "This may not mean much from me being the newbie on the block, but I need to say this: I'm sorry."

That surprised Scott. "What for?"

"I shouldn't have tried to browbeat how it wasn't your fault into your head. I just got so tired of seeing you brood, and I took it out on you. I need to apologize for that."

Scott looked away a bit. "You were right, though. It wasn't my fault…" He then looked back at Jason. "…but I am responsible." With that, Scott walked away.

Jason watched him go sadly, and sighed to himself. One of Scott's personal faults was shouldering responsibility as if it was bricks in his backpack. He needed someone to either share that or take it off for him, and that wasn't for him to do. He knew who needed to do it, but the problem was that she was already taken. Unless that changed, Scott was screwed, and that depressed Jason.

* * *

><p>Dawn rose the next day over the quiet village of Bayville, although it would not be long before the bustle that spread like cancer from nearby New York City would stimulate the busy metropolitan life of Bayville. There were pockets within and without Bayville that remained relatively peaceful despite the business around it. One place was the Bayville water tower just outside the actual city limits of Bayville, but of course, there was a reason it was peaceful: it was fenced up to prevent some idiot to climb the water tower.<p>

That didn't stop one person though and what a sight he was: a complete wild man in ratty clothing and animal-like demeanor. As he walked right up to the fence, he sniffed around to see if he was alone. Growling in his throat, he grabbed the chain-link fence and ripped it to shreds with raw strength. Stepping over it, he tromped towards the water tower ladder and climbed up it as if he belonged here. It took a long time before he reached the top as the tower was well over 150 feet tall, but it didn't bother him.

Upon reaching the top, he sat on the tank itself and let the breeze whip his hair and tattered clothes some. Sniffing in the breeze, he tried to catch one smell from a million of them. He had tracked the runt to somewhere around here, but the amount of smells muddied his ability to sniff out his target. That didn't deter him; soon that runt will slip up in covering his tracks, and when he does, he will sniff him out and finally end him.

He growled hungrily, and promptly leaped off the water tower, disappearing into the nearby trees. The hunt was on.

* * *

><p>At Bayville High, classes were about to begin very soon, and unfortunate students who were cutting it close for various reasons were dashing for the front doors and to their classes as fast as humanly possible. One was Kurt Wagner, who had taken a bypass to his favorite restaurant to grab a Breakfast Burger Bomb before getting to school. While the food was delicious, it often made him late for school, just like today.<p>

Running as fast as he could between chews, he peered at his watch, and his eyes nearly bugged out of his head. "I'm late again!" For a quick instant, he regretted fetching his breakfast sandwich, but another bite changed his mind.

He then noticed that the schoolyard was empty, and then he got an idea. Looking around for anyone, he concentrated to the spot right beside the front door and teleported. Reappearing right where he was aiming for, he smiled triumphantly and treated himself to another bite of his burger as he went inside. That bite instantly turned into granite in his mouth when he saw a haunting figure glower at him. He couldn't help but yelp in surprise. "Ms-Ms. Darkhölme!" he managed to say with his mouth full.

Wordlessly, Principal Darkhölme snatched up Kurt's watch arm and looked scrutinizingly at the watch. "Hmm…watch isn't slow…" Her expression darkened all the more as she looked back at Kurt. "…must be _you_ then."

Kurt didn't dare speak, if only to keep from spilling the mess in his mouth all over himself.

"That's the second tardy this week, Mr. Wagner! Looks like you have some extra time to think about that in my after-school class."

Kurt swallowed everything in his mouth.

Just then, Jason came running out from an adjacent hall and spotted Kurt. "There you are, Kurt! Mr. Dresden sent me to—" His words died on his lips as he saw Principal Darkhölme. "Oh…"

Ms. Darkhölme turned to Jason. "Are you looking to enroll in my after-school class too, Mr. Downs?"

Jason swallowed himself. "No, ma'am!" Jason held up the hall pass key. "Mr. Dresden from Algebra sent me to look for Kurt."

Ms. Darkhölme replied, "Then I suggest both of you better get to class quickly and quietly, am I understood?"

"Perfectly!" yelped Jason and Kurt in unison.

Without another word, Ms. Darkhölme stormed away. Jason and Kurt sighed with relief when she left. Jason finally spoke up, "Come on, Kurt. Let's go." He then saw the half-eaten burger in Kurt's hand. "Another one? No wonder you were late."

Kurt smiled sheepishly as he bit off another bite. "What can I say? It's an addiction."

"Keep this up and I just might have to round up the guys for an intervention."

* * *

><p>Piotr sat back and looked at his handiwork, and then looked at the object that drew his artistic curiosity. He had originally convinced himself he was done a couple days ago, but with the assignment due at the end of the class period, he thought it wouldn't hurt to make sure. Now he found himself obsessive-compulsively correcting his work.<p>

"I think it's close enough, _monsieur…_"

Piotr turned to see the young man that had been sitting behind him since the semester started. Compared to Piotr, the kid was small, but about the same as your average-sized high school student. He supported long dark wavy hair that for some reason reflected white in the light. His hazel eyes seemed to shimmer as he looked at Piotr. Piotr was frozen in thought. "Uh…"

"Oh, sorry, I didn't mean to distract you."

Piotr found his tongue. "Nono, I just don't remember meeting you."

The kid laughed. "I suppose I should feel insulted, but we all have to start somewhere." The kid offered a hand. "I'm Jean-Paul Beaubier."

Piotr took it. "Piotr Rasputin. Are you new student here?"

Jean-Paul shook his head. "I was here since last year; I know I don't sound like I'm from here. I was born in France. You?"

"Russia."

"That's quite a trip, Piotr…"

Piotr smiled a bit, which surprised him inwardly.

Jean-Paul then noticed Piotr's artwork assignment. "You've always been a great artist?"

Piotr looked at his work. "I guess. I really like to draw…"

"And it shows. If I can write has as good as you can, I'd already be on my sixth book signing tour."

Piotr blushed instantly at such appraisal. "You write?"

"_Ouais_. I like to think I'm quite good at it."

"Can I read some of your work sometime?" At once Piotr blushed. "I'm sorry, that was forward of me."

Jean-Paul only smiled. "_Ce n'était rien_. If you help me with artwork, I think I can slip you a few short stories I wrote."

Piotr frowned. "I'm not going to help you cheat."

Jean-Paul looked offended. "I didn't mean that, Piotr. You know art better than I do, and I was wondering if you could give me a few...pointers for the assignments."

Piotr cooled off a bit. "Yes, I'm sorry. This English language confuses me a lot."

"I don't think even those native to it understand it that much either, Piotr."

"But yes, I can help you if you need it."

"_Magnifique!_ You're a life-saver, Piotr."

Piotr blushed again, and looked back at his artwork.

"Hey, Piotr. Has anyone ever told you your ears turn red when you're embarrassed?"

* * *

><p><em>Some time later…<em>

Jason sat in his drama class, taking notes about dramatic structure and analysis thereof. He didn't fare that well the last time he learned this, and he wasn't going to pass up the opportunity to botch that up now. He kind of liked Mr. Young, even if he was a little monotone at times when he spoke. He heard though he was quite different when he took the director's seat when it came for the annual drama production.

"Now, we will stop there for the day, so that we can begin discussion on your semester project: the fall production."

"_Well, speak of the devil,"_ Jason thought.

"This year, we have the privilege of performing Cole Porter's _Kiss Me, Kate_. The performance isn't until early November but we must begin immediately. Each of you as a class is required to take a role in either cast or crew, but I expect all of you to audition for roles in this production."

Another student raised his hand. "Mr. Young, what do we need to audition?"

"I'm glad you asked: you will need to select a song to rehearse and perform, and I would suggest you find something to wear for dance auditions and rehearsals, something easy to move in. We'll be holding rehearsals on two weeks from today for the whole school, so that will give you enough time to choose out a piece and rehearse it."

Jason began to brainstorm about what kind of piece he would want to audition with. Moreover, where would he even begin to look for a song? He had been in high school productions before, but they were straight plays, not musicals. He hadn't even had vocal training. Had he stayed at his old school, that would have been his next class, but that wasn't the case sadly. Maybe he could find a music store in Bayville where he could find sheet music for this kind of thing.

The bell interrupted his thoughts, prompting him as well as everyone else to start packing away their books for lunch, while Mr. Young reminded the class to have their monologues ready for Monday. Just as Jason turned to leave, Mr. Young called to him. "Jason, can I ask you to do a favor?"

Jason turned back to his drama teacher. "Sure, what do you need?"

Mr. Young pulled out a dozen or so posters from beside his desk. "I need someone to post these around the school. All you need to do is post them on the bulletin boards, the cafeteria doors and on the front doors of the school."

"Ok…" Jason nodded, but then remembered something that chilled him. "Ms. Darkhölme is allowing this, right?"

Mr. Young smiled. "Yes, she knows that a student from my class is hanging them up. You'll be safe."

Jason didn't hide the fact he was relieved. "Thank you. I'll hang these up when I find the time between classes."

"Thank you, Jason. I look forward to your monologue on Monday."

With that, Jason and Mr. Young parted ways for the weekend. Jason made a beeline for his locker to put his books away for lunch. As soon as he had stowed away his homework for the moment, he turned and espied one of the bulletin boards nearby. _"Eh, I got a little bit of time,"_ he thought. Laying the posters down beside him, he picked one up and started scrounging for thumb-pins to stick the poster on the board with.

He was so preoccupied with his search that he didn't hear two girls come his way, arguing. Rogue and Kitty were having a small argument about the whereabouts of one of Kitty's books.

"I didn't swipe your stupid novel!" Rogue argued.

Kitty scoffed. "Oh, like it just floated into _your_ locker by accident?"

"You loaned it to Kurt, then he loaned it to me." Rogue narrowed her eyes. "I _was_ going to give it back later today, ok?"

"Oh, like I totally believe tha—" Kitty wasn't paying attention to where she was going and then plowed right into Jason, causing both of them to take a tumble.

Jason picked the poster up from where it fell on his head. "Pay no attention to the man on the floor."

Kitty was embarrassed, blushing from ear tip to ear tip. "Oh, s-sorry, Jason. Could I like be any klutz-ier?"

"I hope not," Jason smiled as he sat up. "Here, let me help you with your books anyway."

Rogue crossed her arms and scowled down at both of them.

"I guess I really should look where I'm going, right?"

"It happens to everyone." Jason handed Kitty her last textbook as he picked himself off the floor. "I think that's all of them."

Kitty laughed nervously. "Th-thank you, Jason."

Rogue sneered. "'Thank you, Jason.'"

Kitty scowled at Rogue while Jason appeared not to notice Rogue's attitude.

"It's all right, Kitty," Jason smiled as he reached for the poster he dropped himself.

Kitty continued to fidget and laugh like she was a crushing twelve-year-old. "So, what are you doing?"

"Putting up a poster for upcoming auditions for the musical; it's a couple weeks away." Jason suddenly thought of something. "Hey, are you trying out?"

Kitty looked shyly away. "Well, uh, I don't know, maybe? Kinda?"

"You should. I heard you like to sing and dance; maybe it'll be your time to shine, excuse the bad rhyme."

"Well, okay! Sure! When are they again? Oh wait, you just said so, sorry…"

Rogue turned away. _"Ugh, I think I'm going to be ill."_

Jason then looked at Rogue. "Hey, Rogue. Have you got any idea what piece you want to try out with? I'm just curious."

The sudden switch of attention caught Rogue off guard. "Uh, no, I haven't really thought about it."

Jason shrugged. "Yeah, we have two weeks to choose one. Speaking of, do either of you know a music store in Bayville? I want to see if they have some sheet music."

Kitty spoke up. "Oh, I know one! There's one in the Bayville Mall."

"Great!" Jason smiled. "I'll have to stop by there this weekend to see what they have."

"Cool!" Kitty said. "Maybe we can like have a mall day and invite some of the others!"

Jason kept a brave face at that idea. "Well, we'll see when we get there." Jason put the past pin up on the poster. "All right, I've got to get to lunch. See you two later!"

"Bye!" Kitty said cheerfully, while Rogue only nodded.

As soon as Jason's back was turned, he could hear that Rogue and Kitty were going to go at it again.

"Just when I thought you couldn't get any more pathetic," Rogue said.

"At least _I_ have a chance of getting in. You?"

"Anything you can do, Kitty, I can do."

"See you from the stage, Rogue."

"Likewise, Kitty."

Jason sighed in relief. She knew there was a bit of a tense relationship between Rogue and Kitty, mainly because they were definitely on opposite sides of the magnet, and being roommates probably didn't help. Jason didn't even dare to think what auditions were going to be like for those two. It wasn't an audition anymore; it was a duel.

* * *

><p>Kitty had finally gotten away from Rogue long enough to get to her locker to change out her books for fourth period after lunch, when she got a nasty surprise. Just as she closed her locker, the row of lockers began to rattle. Kitty even felt the floor beneath her shake some. A look of horror flashed across her face as she looked around the hall and found the culprit.<p>

"Hey, pretty Kitty!" A fairly-tall teen with brown eyes and long brown hair said with a smile. "Remember me?"

"Lance!" Kitty exclaimed, her eyes wider than a window. "What are you doing here?"

"Cool to see you remember." the kid named Lance said.

At once, Kitty's eyes narrowed. "What, you want to bring down this school too?"

Lance frowned. "You're still mad at me about that?"

"Mad?" Kitty exclaimed. "You totally used me, Lance, and all for dumb test answers! And then you nearly brought the school down on me and my family!"

Lance continued to frown. "I didn't mean to drop the school on your family, Kitty!"

Kitty turned away. "Just get a clue, Lance! Stay away from me!" With that, Kitty took off.

Lance leaned against the lockers, fuming. "That's gratitude for you," Lance said to himself. "That's why I don't like helping people." His attitude souring, he stormed off. The idea of bringing down this school was definitely appealing.

* * *

><p>In the cafeteria, Jason and Piotr were discussing the happenings of the day over a serving of meat lasagna—of which possessed debatable quality.<p>

"So, you have to audition for this…musical?" Piotr surmised.

"Yep; that alone will be a challenge." Jason replied. "I've never auditioned for anything beyond a straight play and that was in my Freshman year back in Oklahoma. From what I hear, auditioning for a musical is a bit more…demanding."

"What do you mean?"

"When I auditioned for a straight play, all I had to do was stand on stage and read what they wanted me to read. This time, I need to find a piece of music to audition with, as well as do dance routines in addition to script-reading."

Piotr didn't answer, but his own face spelled out that he was glad he wasn't auditioning.

"Worse still is that I have no idea what this musical is even about. I have no idea what I should use to properly audition for a musical called _Kiss Me, Kate_."

"Hey, you two! Is this seat taken?" said a voice.

Jason and Piotr looked up to see Jean-Paul standing over them. "Oh, hey, Jean-Paul!" Jason greeted. "Sure, go ahead and sit."

As Jean-Paul sat down, Piotr looked at Jason. "You know Jean-Paul?"

"Sure!" Jason replied. "He sits to my left in drama class. Hey, that reminds me." Jason turned to Jean-Paul. "Do you have anything idea what the musical is about?"

"Oh, sure! I saw a revival of it in the big city! It's a great musical to perform, Jason, but I'll warn you, you'll catch yourself singing the songs yourself for weeks afterwards."

Jason smirked at that. "Well, thanks for the warning. I just want to know what the songs are like so I can audition properly for them."

"Well, then what you need, hot-stuff, is something like Cohan's songs. I can definitely see you belt out 'Yankee Doodle Dandy'."

Jason shrugged. "Know where I can snag a copy of that?"

"Sure! I have a copy where I live. I'll get it to you on Monday, that all right?"

"Sounds great to me. Thanks, Jean-Paul!"

"Pleasure's mine. Listen, I got to go to my locker to grab my junk for next class. See you two later!" With that, Jean-Paul took off from the table.

"Wow, what the hell is he injecting into his veins and where can I get some?" Jason said, laughing.

"Uh…what?" Piotr asked, confused.

"I'm just making a joke about his energy level. If he was any more energetic, he'd give Richard Simmons a run for his money."

Piotr looked after Jean-Paul as he ran off, his own thoughts going through his head. "I first met him in my art class. He's a very friendly man."

"You can say that again. I kind of wish more people would at least try to be as friendly as he is. There's still one thing, though…"

"What's that?"

Jason's brow sank over his eyes. "Did he just call me _hot-stuff_?"

* * *

><p><em>A few hours later…<em>

Back at the Institute, Logan was giving a fresh coat of shine to one of his motorcycles. If there was one thing he cared about in his world besides the Institute, it was motorcycles. Logan was a man that needed extended periods of solitude, and a motorcycle was the thing to get him there. To him, motorcycles were more than a set of wheels with a motor. They were the expression of himself, and thus he took avid care of them.

As his reflection on the fuel tank of his motorcycle grew more and more sharp, the wind kicked up some loose dirt and leaves and deposited them onto his fresh work. Growling, he wiped it away when something pricked his senses. There was something in the wind that was familiar. Looking up, he faced the wind as his brow fell over his eyes. His nostrils flared as he breathed in the smell. Stepping slowly from his bike, he continued to sniff the wind for any stronger sample of that smell so he could identify it.

Suddenly, his eyes bulged and his teeth clenched. He knew that smell, and he knew it was bad news. Growling to himself, he dashed into the Institute and ran for his room. Inside, he pulled out from the closet his uniform and changed into it quickly. That scent he got was weak, but it was enough for him to know that shit will hit the fan if he didn't do anything. Strapping on his boots and gloves, clipping on his belt and pulling his fierce-looking cowl over his head, he was preparing for battle with his eternal nemesis:

Sabretooth.

* * *

><p>As school was let out for the weekend, all the students clamored out of the building to start their weekend plans right away, despite any summer heat that would beat down on them. What none of the students were aware of was that someone was watching them from on top the school roof, sniffing the air as the students poured through the doors underneath him. If the runt was somewhere in this town, someone must know where he is. Plus, he got a tip that he went soft and was teaching some other mutant kids; the thought disgusted him. However, if that was true, the odds that at least one of those pups down here having just a grain of the runt's smell were significant enough. It was worth a chance, anyway. He glowered over each twerp as they passed underneath him, nostrils flared. Despite his idea, he had been coming up empty. Was he going to have to do this the old-fashioned way?<p>

Suddenly, he espied a group of kids coming out, and for some reason they stuck out from the crowd. The wild man sniffed at them, and his eyes bulged. There it was! The smell of the runt! He wanted to nab one right away, but it would be too messy, and he would never get what he wanted if he got trouble. He had to get one of them alone.

Then, he espied the group beginning to break up as they left. One guy with red glasses standing next to quite a looker with red hair apparently was offering a ride to two others: a big man that looked like he could even do the wild man some harm, and the other just a regular-looking kid. All of them had the stink of the runt. He waited patiently, and saw that the smaller of the two decided to walk instead of take the ride. The wild man licked his teeth. That was all he needed.

The small one went off at a walk down the street by himself, carrying his backpack as if he was just enjoying the breeze. Stealthily, the wild man climbed off the rooftop of the school and gave chase. The puny little kid was going to tell him the location of Wolverine whether he liked it or not.

* * *

><p>"<em>And you are sure of this, Wolverine?"<em> came the Professor's voice through the psychic realm.

"_Positive, Chuck,"_ Logan growled mentally. _"I know his stink anywhere. He'll be after me, so as long as I stay away from the mansion, I can get rid of him safely…one way or another."_

"_Yes; I'll warn the students to stay out of Bayville for the time being until Sabretooth is gone."_

"_Wouldn't have it any other way."_

With that, Logan hopped onto his motorcycle and took off through the front gates of the Institute, his motorcycle roaring as he jetted off. On the way out, he passed by Scott in his car just as it was entering and didn't stop to look at him. Scott and the others in his car snapped their heads around to watch him go.

"What's up with Logan?" said Kurt—who had taken up Scott's offer for a ride in lieu of Jason.

"He's packing some serious attitude today," Scott said.

"I wonder what is wrong…" Piotr wondered.

"_X-Men, until further notice, I need to ask you to remain on the Institute grounds until Wolverine dispatches Sabretooth,"_ came the Professor's mental voice.

"_Sabretooth?"_ Jean replied the same way.

"_A mutant with a savage temper and lust for violence. He is not choosy on whom he chooses to kill."_

"_Charming,"_ Jean replied.

"_Is that why Wolverine just breezed by us?"_ Kurt thought.

"_Yes. If there is anything that outweighs Sabretooth's lust for violence, it's his hatred of Wolverine."_

"_I'm guessing there's a story behind that,"_ Scott thought.

"_There is, but now is not the—"_ the Professor's thoughts cut off suddenly.

Jean blinked. _"Professor?"_

"_Where is Jason?"_

The blood in all four occupants suddenly froze. Piotr suddenly leaped out of the car. "I must find him!" he cried out loud and took off for the front gate.

"Piotr, wait!" the Professor cried out mentally, but Piotr ignored him. "The rest of you, find Jason but do not search for him alone! Stay as a group."

"On it, Professor!" Scott whipped the car around and drove after Piotr.

* * *

><p>Jason had to admit, he enjoyed walking home. Even though it was blistering hot outside, he didn't care if the sweat would probably destroy his trademark white shirts. He'd been feeling cooped up at the Institute lately, and taking the scenic route back would at least help him calm his nerves a bit.<p>

As he walked under the towering buildings, he mildly wondered where the mall was. Kitty had mentioned there was a music store there; maybe now was a good time to see if they had anything. His mind was on his watch though; he was due for another lesson with Dr. Strange tonight. Good thing he wore the Amulet of Agamotto day in and day out, just in case.

As he wandered down the streets of Bayville, a sick feeling kept building at the back of his mind, and it making him feel paranoid. Every street corner he stopped at, he found himself looking around—no, scoping the area. The rational side of his brain was trying to reason with his instincts, and the clash was growing more violent. It continued to build to the point where he espied a rather dark alleyway ahead of them, and he froze. Paranoia was telling him to turn around or try to cross the street here to get away from the alley. He became aware that he was drawing attention from passersby as he merely stood there, lost in a mental war.

"_Jason! Run for it!"_ came a frantic telepathic cry.

Jason's head snapped up at that. _"Professor?" _And then he noticed a large shadow fall over him.

Before he had any time to react, he was picked up from behind and thrown into the alley way he had tried to avoid. He hit the pavement hard, and it winded him. Coughing, he lay there as the shadow fell over him again. Working up the strength to look at his mugger, his eyes nearly bulged out of his head. "Who…are you?" he gasped.

The wild man in front of him, growled. "I ask the questions, rat!" Suddenly, the man was on top of Jason, so close that Jason could count his teeth. "Tell me where the runt is!"

"The what?"

The wild man wrapped his fingers around Jason's throat. "Tell me…where Wolverine is…"

Jason felt the pressure in his skull build, and it was upsetting his still-recovering brain. Frantically, he tried to pry the man's hand off, but he was too strong. Suddenly, his fingers connected. A blast of alchemic energy shot from his entire body, sending the wild man flipping through the air. Jason gasped for air as the pressure in his skull decreased. Quickly, he scrambled to his feet, just as the wild man landed on his own.

Snarling, he glared at Jason. "Neat trick, kid. How about I show you a few of mine?" Roaring like a lion, he leaped at Jason.

Jason transmuted a spike trap to intercept this man, who fell right into it, giving Jason the opportunity to run. Roaring in pain, the wild man climbed out and gave chased, his wounds quickly closing. Jason didn't know who this guy was, but he wasn't going to stick around and find out.

Suddenly, the wild man dropped down right in front of him, stopping Jason in his tracks. "I'm the wrong person to play tag with, mousey…"

Jason didn't answer; instead, he transmuted a bat out of the concrete. Well, if there was nowhere to run, he might as well fight.

The wild man pounced on Jason and ripped the bat out of his hand. Not stopping to take a breath, he pinned Jason to a wall. "You got no chance, kid! Just tell me where the fucking Wolverine is, and you can just forget all about me."

"GET AWAY FROM HIM, SABRETOOTH!" shouted a voice.

Both turned to look, just in time for the wild man to get a metal fist into the face, sending him into a pile of garbage. Jason collapsed to the ground, and saw Piotr in metal form standing over him. "Peter!"

Despite his steel exterior, Piotr's eyes looked concerned. "Jason, are you all right?"

"I think so…"

Suddenly, the pile of garbage stirred, and then the wild man, Sabretooth, popped out. Roaring, it dived at Colossus. Colossus in return grabbed the wrists of Sabretooth, and quickly twisted himself around, slamming Sabretooth into the ground. Suddenly, Sabretooth grabbed Piotr's wrists and threw him through the wall, shattering it.

"Peter!" Jason cried out, but before he could see if he was okay, Sabretooth pinned him against the wall again.

"You have three seconds before I twist you and your boyfriend's head off," Sabretooth growled. "Where is Wolver—" Suddenly a metal fist shot through the wall and into his face, sending him into the brick wall behind him, shattering it.

Colossus then barreled through the wall the rest of the way. "Do that and I will stomp on your head, _sooka_!" he shouted.

Jason's mind couldn't keep up with all that was happening, and couldn't speak. Suddenly, Sabretooth climbed out of the rubble, his face twisted with rage. "You don't have the balls, fucker!"

"Test me and find out!"

Sabretooth roared, when he stopped, and sniffed the air. Neither Piotr nor Jason dared to move, but braced themselves for a fresh attack. Suddenly, Sabretooth smiled. "You're lucky this time, bitches, but next time I'll rip your meat from your bones!" With that, Sabretooth leaped up and over them, then off again against the opposite wall, wall jumping all the way up the building.

Colossus huffed once before relaxing, his metal skin returning to normal. He turned to Jason. "Did he hurt you…"

"Just a bruise or two," Jason said as he rubbed his neck. "Listen, we got to go after him."

Piotr's looked surprised. "No! I need to get you safely to Institute!"

"You don't understand, Peter. I wasn't the guy he was after…he's after Logan!" Jason sounded earnest. "You saw what he could do; he threw you through a wall, for God's sake! Please, we got to help him."

Piotr pursed his lips as his heart and mind warred. Finally, he sighed. "All right, but we must be careful."

"You don't have to tell me twice."

* * *

><p>Wolverine parked his motorcycle on top of a parking garage and sniffed the wind. He wasn't getting much of a smell, but he was here, or had been here some time ago. He had heard there was one of the Institute kids around outside who had not arrived back at the Institute as expected. Logan growled to himself; fine time for a walk in the park.<p>

Something caught his ear, like scraping on the side of a wall. Instantly, he was on alert, deploying his claws and looked around sharply. The smell grew stronger too. Suddenly, from beneath his feet, a car shot through the pavement, sending him tumbling through the air and smashing into the ground. Snarling, Wolverine jumped to his feet and leaped aside just as another vehicle came crashing up again. He ran quickly for the first hole and dived in. Spinning around, he found Sabretooth launching vehicles through the roof, but that changed as soon Wolverine landed. Sabretooth spun around, teeth and claws bared. "Unfinished business, runt!"

"Bring it on, bub," Wolverine growled, baring his adamantium claws. "Bring it on!" He then leaped at Sabretooth, lancing him through his chest.

Sabretooth roared and threw him off, then twisted around as his wounds healed and grabbing a car as he went. Heaving it, the car spun crazily at Wolverine. Snarling, Wolverine swiped the car with his claws, cleaving it in two, sending the two halves soaring out of the open space behind him and to the street below. That did not matter to these two, however, and they slashed and clawed at each other.

* * *

><p>"Look out!" Kurt cried out a warning.<p>

Scott and Jean looked up just in time to see two halves of a vehicle come falling from the parking garage into the street ahead of him.

"Whoa!" Scott slammed on the breaks and turned hard left, screeching to a halt just in time to avoid smashing into the rear end of the cleaved car. Everyone was gasping after that close call, but not nearly so much as Scott. "Everyone okay?"

"Yeah," Jean sighed. "That was too close."

"What happened?" Kurt asked.

Scott looked up through his red shades to see where the cars came from. "Up there! The second floor from the top!"

"Should we check it out?" Kurt asked.

Scott smiled. "We'll head inside and suit up. Be ready for anything!" With that, Scott pulled around and headed to the parking garage.

Had he pulled around a little sooner, he might have noticed two others that were after their mutual quarry.

* * *

><p>Wolverine and Sabretooth tore into each other, but neither seemed to get a decisive lead over the other. Almost as fast as they took slashes, they healed them. As if their abilities didn't match, so did their tempers. Each blow received magnified the fury of the one who received it, and thus they began to tear each other to pieces. Blood stained the ground with each strike, but it didn't matter. This was war, and only one would come out the victor.<p>

Suddenly, Sabretooth slammed a vehicle against Wolverine and pinned him against a pillar, and was beginning to crush him. "One shall fall by the other's hand; our destiny we cannot change!"

Wolverine tried to wriggle free, but he was hopelessly trapped. "I didn't think you'd be the type for that philosophy mumbo-jumbo!" He grunted, clawing in vain at the car to loosen it up. The pressure was building in his head, and it was impossible to think.

Sabretooth grinned savagely. Here it was, the moment of victory!

The next thing he knew, he was sent flying to the side and into a van, putting a massive dent into it. Snarling, he looked to see who it was. The big man clenched a fist that gleamed in the light as he spoke. "I have your philosophy right here, Sabretooth!"

Sabretooth snarled in recognition: it was that metal-giant, Colossus, and if he wasn't mistaken, behind was the wimp he interrogated earlier.

Wolverine was still working himself out of the car when Jason said. "Peter, get Wolverine out! I'll distract Sabretooth!"

"Get away from him, kid!" Wolverine grunted.

"I know what I'm doing…" Jason said quietly, as he clapped his hands together.

"Drop it, kid!" He charged at Colossus with a roar, only to run into a concrete wall that popped up in front of him at just the right time to slap him upside the jaw. Growling and snapping his jaw back in place, he looked at the kid who had one hand slapped against the ground, his eyes seemingly glowing the same green as his power.

"Have I got your attention now, Bigfoot?" Jason said, teeth gritted.

Sabretooth snarled and leaped at Jason , but Jason leaped aside onto a handstand. Underneath him, the concrete rose as alchemic energy forced it upwards. When it finished, Jason perched himself on top like a frog searching for a fly. Sabretooth grabbed the pillar and yanked it out of the ground. "That ain't going to stop me, kid!"

"I wasn't planning on that!" Jason shouted back.

Sabretooth threw the pillar around, but Jason leaped off of it and hit the ground, hands together. Sabretooth held the pillar above Jason's head to crush him.

"THIS is what I was planning!" Jason said, as a blast of alchemic energy erupted from his hands.

The floor promptly collapsed underneath both of them, causing both of them to fall to the floor below.

Colossus noticed. "Jason!"

Wolverine was still waiting for his crushed organs to heal. "Damn kid!"

* * *

><p>Sabretooth dug himself out of the mound of concrete that had rained from above, allowing himself a small smile. The kid had some nuts. Maybe that scar told more than it let on. Sniffing around, he soon found the boy laying still right underneath the gaping hole in the ground. He sniffed again, and grinned savagely. He was still alive. Good, that would make ripping him apart all the more entertaining.<p>

Stalking up to him, he growled. "You got spunk, kid, I'll give you that." Sabretooth picked Jason up by the neck and his right arm. "But you're no match for me, and that's a lesson you learn only once. So, what will it be? An arm? Leg?"

"How about your face?"

Sabretooth was so surprised by the response that he didn't move when Jason's free hand clapped against the wild man's face. Sabretooth's face lit up briefly, then exploded with blood. Sabretooth dropped Jason instantly, roaring in pain. With one eye, he glared at Jason, who looked down on him, covered in blood.

"About time you picked me up; my hands felt they were about to explode."

"What did you do to me!" Sabretooth roared.

"Did you know that the average human body has thirty-five liters of water in it? And that water is essential for every life process of the human body? And that the boiling point of water is 212oF? That's all I did. I used alchemy to boil the water in your face rapidly. Familiar with Charles' Law? An increase of temperature increases the temperature of a gas. A similar principle can be found in liquids. When I transmuted the water into a gas, the rapid change in temperature caused the water to expand violent, akin to an explosion. You can guess the rest."

Sabretooth was fuming, and waited for his face to heal. "Who the fuck are you?"

"Call me Alchemist. You know, I wouldn't dream to do that kind of trick on someone else other than you. When I saw that you healed from the spike trap so quickly, I took a guess that you had some kind of high-grade healing factor, much like Wolverine." Jason's eyes narrowed. "And since your face is almost done, I guessed right."

"Damn right, you did." Sabretooth rose to his full height, towering over Jason. "Too bad you don't have that, bitch!"

"I do!" cried a voice from above.

Sabretooth looked up to see Wolverine dive on top of him, claws first. Wolverine and Sabretooth tumbled away from Jason, who sat down to take a breather, trying to ignore the stink of blood that coated him.

"Jason!" Piotr cried, as he hopped down in metal-form. His eyes widened in horror when he saw the amount of blood on Jason, and he couldn't speak.

Jason smiled. "Don't worry, Peter. This ain't my blood…you don't think he has mono or some shit like that, do ya?"

Colossus was so dumb-founded by Jason's casual tone clashing with his messy exterior that he still couldn't speak.

Meanwhile, Wolverine and Sabretooth continued to fight until they came to an elevator. Both crashed right through the door, just as Wolverine was going to rip open Sabretooth's spleen, but Sabretooth kicked him out of the elevator. Wolverine bounded back onto his feet, but it was too late. The cab sank and the cover doors on the elevator closed. Wolverine snarled as he ripped them away with rapid swipes from his claws, but when the door was open, Sabretooth was long gone.

Wolverine fumed as Jason and Piotr, now back in his normal form, joined him. Jason looked at the mess. "Well, that was fun."

Wolverine looked at the amount of blood on Jason, but one sniff told him Jason was perfectly fine, ignoring he might stink like Sabretooth for a week. "Listen, kid, because I ain't gonna tell you again. I don't find your battles." Wolverine's eyes narrowed. "Don't fight mine!" Logan then stormed past both of them.

Jason and Piotr looked after him. "Well, I'm guessing that's the closest we'll ever get to a 'thank you'."

"I think you are right, comrade."

Jason looked for the first time at the gory mess on him. "Ugh, I hope to God he doesn't have AIDS or something." Jason pulled off the shirt, revealing the blood had seeped through his cotton shirt and onto his flesh, staining it red. "Damn, I look like a mutant now. It's going to take me a week to wash this off."

Piotr tried to smile, but the smell of blood was making him nauseous.

"What in _Himmel_ happened here?" said a German-accented voice.

"Anyone down there?" cried an earnest woman's voice.

Jason smiled. "Don't worry; we're fine."

In a matter of seconds, Jean came floating down with Scott while Kurt teleported in, all in uniform. Naturally, they all saw a bloodied Jason first. "_Gott in Himmel_!" Kurt exclaimed.

"Everyone, take it easy!" Jason said, smiling. "This ain't my blood; it was Sabretooth's. I'm unhurt."

Scott looked cross. "Were you trying to kill yourself, Jason?"

"I wasn't _looking_ for Sabretooth!" Jason said back, equally cross at being addressed to so. "_He_ found _me_! I would have been in a lot worse shape if Peter didn't find me!"

"Where was Wolverine?" Scott said, not backing down.

"Pinned by a car. Peter had to get it off of him, and…" Jason sighed. "…well…I had to distract Sabretooth enough to give Peter the time."

"You _fought_ him?" Scott exclaimed.

Jason sighed. "Yeah."

Scott was silent, as was everyone else. Jean looked at Scott, sensing the storming thoughts in his head. Scott was fuming at Jason's actions, mainly because if anything happened to Jason, Scott would surely blame himself, just like at the football field last night.

Jason finally responded. "Listen, Scott, I know what you are thinking. You're pissed because I nearly got killed on your watch, and I'm sorry; I never meant that. But please, Scott, don't keep shouldering all this on you. You're not just responsible for us…we are responsible for us…and for you. We—you are all X-Men. I may not be one yet…but I wasn't about to let Peter or even Logan get ripped apart by Sabretooth…not while I could do something about it. I know where you are coming from, Slim. Will you let us take some responsibility as well so you don't have to shoulder it all?"

Kurt and Jean looked at Scott, who hadn't moved. The mood was tense for quite some time, when it finally broke. "Jason, report to the Professor." With that, he turned away and walked out. All the others watched him go.

Jason only sighed sadly; Piotr laid a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

Jean smiled. "You know something, Jason? Keep that up, and you'll be a great X-Man someday."

Jason shrugged. "Right now, that doesn't really matter. I'm worried about Scott…"

"If it helps, I did pick up that he is seriously considering what you said to him. That's more than any of us ever done," Jean reassured.

"As far as I'm concerned, you already are an X-Man!" Kurt said, giving two thumbs up.

Jason smirked. "Thanks, Kurt."

"Dude, you have to tell me all about what happened down here!"

"One thing at a time, Kurt," Jason laughed. "But Scott is right. The Professor and I really do need to talk."

* * *

><p>Sabretooth sat on a hilltop outside Bayville, scowling over the city. So much for getting rid of the runt. He didn't count on a ringer like that Colossus appearing, or that punk called Alchemist who could blow up his face with a touch. The day was a complete waste. He would have to try again another day.<p>

As he fumed, a shadow fell over him. Snarling, he turned around and brandished his claws.

"That will not be necessary, Sabretooth."

Sabretooth looked up at the stranger, floating in the air with a billowing cape. "Come down and I'll tell you what's not necessary!"

"I've watched your battle today, both with the Wolverine and the Alchemist. You may have retreated today, but if you join my Acolytes, you will achieve victory."

That enticed him. "Really? And what's your angle?"

"I seek to ensure the survival of mutantkind on this Earth. We both know humanity's days are numbered now that evolution has now leapt forward; however, they will not go down so easily, but down they will fall. And you shall be one of my lieutenants for that day."

Sabretooth smiled. So, a call to fight some wimpy humans? Sounded fun. "And what's in it for me?"

"You will be allowed to roam freely until I need you. After all, I believe you still have a score to settle with your…colleague."

A growl emitted from Sabretooth's throat.

"So, will you stand with me against humanity, Sabretooth?"

Sabretooth stared briefly, and didn't think about it too much. "All right, you got yourself a deal."

"I am pleased to hear it." The flying man's eyes lit up yellow from underneath his helmet. "Very pleased."

* * *

><p><em>Later that day…<em>

"It's my fault, Professor," Jason said. "I was the one who convinced Peter to help me defend Wolverine."

The Professor sat across from Jason and Piotr in his study, while Logan leaned against the nearby fireplace. Jason and Piotr both came to talk to the Professor after he called them here to discuss the happenings of today. "Jason, do you realize what Sabretooth could have done to you?"

"Yes, Professor."

"And you knew that Logan could handle himself against him?"

Logan sniffed audibly in acknowledgement.

Jason sighed. "I knew that Logan could take him on, but as soon as Sabretooth left me and Peter in the alleyway, I got this bad feeling that something was going to go south. So, I asked Peter to help me help Logan."

The Professor leaned back in his wheelchair. Jason braced himself, while Piotr laid a reassuring hand on Jason's shoulder.

"I hope you realize just how lucky you are, Jason," the Professor said sternly. "You are new to this Institute and have only been in a few training sessions, and none of them were combat evolved. You could have been killed!"

Jason didn't answer, but looked down.

"Do you think you deserve punishment?"

Jason didn't move. "That's not for me to say, Professor. If you think I need it, then I need it."

No one spoke briefly. Piotr looked compassionately at his friend. He knew that Jason had meant well; had he been in the same position, he would have done the same.

The Professor finally spoke. "Jason, for the next week, you will attend two training sessions per day."

Jason looked up, and nodded. "Thank you, Professor."

The Professor added. "Half of those will be combat-based."

Jason looked surprised, the implication of that last statement was not lost to him. "Thank you, Professor!"

The Professor smiled. "You both are dismissed, unless Logan has anything to say."

Jason winced automatically.

Logan stood up from the fireplace. "Kid, just because you got special powers, that doesn't mean you are fireproof. Sabretooth is one mean S.O.B., and he doesn't forgive anything. You can bet your supper that he'll be coming after you now. You prepared for that? I don't think you are."

Jason looked down again.

"Which is why I'm gonna be the one training you. Just one thing: if you even think about blowing my face up, you'll be grounded for a month. _Capiche_?"

"Yeah, I _capiche_."

Logan growled. "I'm done."

"You're dismissed," the Professor said.

With that, Jason and Piotr left the room. When they got out, they found Scott leaning against the wall. "What's the damage?" he asked.

"A week's worth of training sessions…with Logan," Jason replied.

Scott's wince was visible through his shades.

"Hey, I deserve it," Jason said, then sighed. "Hey, I really meant what I said back there. I'm sorry for—"

"No, I'm sorry," Scott said suddenly. "You were right. I do take a lot on myself. Something I've always had trouble with. Look, this isn't something I'm going to fix overnight…but maybe one day…"

"That's better than nothing," Jason said. "And I'll try harder not to make things too hard on you."

"Deal."

Scott and Jason smiled at each other, when Jason finally said. "You know something? We've just switched positions since last night. Kind of freaky, isn't it?"

Scott laughed. "Freaky is the norm around here, Jason. You'll get used to it."

"God, I hope so."

All shared a laugh as they went down the hall.

* * *

><p><em>Wow, that had to be the fastest I've ever written a chapter! I'm quite proud of myself for juicing out a chapter so quickly. Will I be able to do that for the next chapter? Probably not. Oh, well. <em>

_I borrowed some material from Episodes 1 and 8 of _X-Men Evolution_, as you may have noticed._

_Speaking of next chapter, here's a look at __Chapter 3: Storm Stories__._

_Hurricane Irene threatens to put a monkey wrench into everyday life at Bayville. As the students at the Institute prepare for it, Jason grows increasingly agitated as the hurricane approaches. Can the other students calm his nerves enough for him to enjoy the party? Find out next time!_

_See you then!_


	4. Chapter 3: Storm Stories

**CHAPTER 3:**** Storm Stories**

* * *

><p><em>Thursday, August 25, 2011 – 9:12 PM <em>

Night had fallen on the Institute, and not a creature stirred in the night save the cricket ever singing their doleful melodies of the nocturnal realm. With the night came peace and relaxation for those at the Institute as most had to prepare for another school day the next day—although there were whispers in the wind that school the next day may not happen.

Something stirred within the bushes outside, then a shadow darted out from the bushes into the shadows of the forest. It sniffed about, seeing if it was alone. Nothing was near, and it darted out again into the shadow of a tree at the edge. Between him and the Institute now was over one-hundred feet of barren land with nothing to hide under or inside. Listening closely, he heard a very quiet whirring of mechanics: security cameras, watching every inch of the Institute, looking back and forth as they did. The shadow soon caught the glint of the cameras in the moonlight, and his eyes locked onto them. He watched them swing back and forth, looking for any time there was a blind-spot he could take advantage of. Several swings later, he spotted one blind-spot and studied it, timed it. Finally, he burst from cover, sprinting for the drain pipe that he had targeted and then climbed up it liked a monkey.

Now on the roof, he looked around, sniffing the air. There had to be a way into this mansion, and finally get what he came for. He spotted near the chimney an air duct. A mansion this size needed a very large air vent duct to keep air circulating throughout the building…big enough for someone to crawl through. Quickly but stealthily, he crawled across the rooftop to the opening. Upon arrival, he found that it was covered securely with a mesh grate to keep animals out. It would keep animals out sure, but he was more than that. With a solid punch, the intruder annihilated the mesh, and then ripped it open with his bare hands. The way was now open; in he crawled.

Wedging himself against the walls of the vent, he slowly crawled down to avoid a noisy entrance, let alone a nasty fall. If he guessed correctly, the vent descended a short distance before splitting off horizontally to feed into the mansion. However, he didn't need to get that far. Near the split should be some vents that fed the air into the attic. Once he got into the attic, the rest of breaking into the mansion would be pathetically easy. A few moments later, he reached the T-split and took off down his right. Almost immediately, he found a vent that opened up into the attic. Grabbing it, he worked it off quietly and slid it into the vent opposite of the vent opening. A poor burglar would probably let it drop into the attic noisily; not this guy. With that out of the way, he dropped down. Here he was: the attic. Now the hard part was done; the easy part was next.

Suddenly, the wind picked up in the attic. The intruder sniffed around, alarmed. If there was wind this strong, then something was very wrong. Leaping up, he pulled himself back into the vent. He pulled the cover back onto the vent and crawled on. Minor setback; one that he could work around. He crawled on quietly, but he found himself distracted by the wind. Where did it come from, and how was it possible such a blast of wind could occur in an attic, or any enclosed space?

A crack of thunder interrupted his thoughts, freezing him in place. A storm? There was no forecast for a storm. Could the storm have caused the wind? He didn't have time to think about it, when a roaring sound started building behind him, and it sounded like the roar of a mighty waterfall. Looking under his arm and behind, he saw the reason: a wall of water surging forward to wash him out. Silent tread all forgotten, he crawled quickly in a panic to get away, but it was too late. The water smacked into him and washed him away.

He struggled to hold onto his breath as the roaring current swept him further into the ducts. Where was he going to end up, and what caused this flood! Then, he burst through a vent and all the water and all it carried poured into a metal dome-like room. Coughing, the intruder looked around, and saw standing in the middle of the room a woman: chocolate-skilled, brilliant white hair and garbed in black with a flowing cape.

The woman looked down at him. "Looks like I caught myself a burglar. You look a little flushed, it seems…" Suddenly, her eyes started to glow white. "…and the forecast is not good."

Angrily, the intruder leaped at the woman, but found himself blown back against the wall by a frigid wind. Since he was still soaked, all the water on him froze solid, forming a cocoon of ice over him. The woman smiled at the misfortune that fell on the intruder. Suddenly, the intruder shuddered as he struggled against the ice coat, but finally broke it off. Growling, he glared at the woman. "That…was cold."

"Then let's warm you up."

Rising into the air, she pressed a button on a watch-like device on her wrist. The intruder looked up briefly, but noticed a series of turrets materialize from holes in the wall. He barely had time to dodge when they opened fire. They were fast, but the intruder was faster. He ducked underneath the fire and dodged back and forth, bobbing and weaving until he reached one turret. Leaping above it, he clenched his fist and out came three metal claws from between his knuckles. With one slash, the turret was cleaved in two. The intruder then looked towards the remaining ones.

"Simulation terminated! Simulation terminated!" said a computer voice.

"Sorry, Wolverine. We can only allow so many turrets to be destroyed, you know," said a kind voice from the observation deck above the room.

The intruder pulled off his mask, revealing the chiseled face of Logan. "Hey, Hank, you asked me to give a demo. I gave you a demo."

In the observation room, Hank, Kurt, Scott and Jason had watched everything from before the break-in to the melee in the room below on the monitors. Jason smirked while shaking his head. "Demo? As in what: demonstration or demolition?" he quipped. "What was I supposed to learn from that?"

The door opened in the observation room, and in stepped Storm. "The lesson was for you to study many devices in security, determined their respective weaknesses and how to evade them. We may find ourselves in situations where we need to stay undetected by security."

"That's right, Scarface," said Wolverine, who had followed Storm in, looking no worse for wear aside from his outfit. "And I say our own security systems need some patchwork."

Kurt seemed to not notice the diagnostic statement, and merely snacked on his popcorn while hanging upside-down from his tail. "That was tight, Logan! I give it two thumbs up!" And so he gave them, but they being upside down caused a noticeable perceptive flaw, provoking Jason to roll his eyes.

In return, Logan ignored the congratulatory appraisal. "The vents are too breach-able. It took me just one punch. And do we really need to have the vents that big?"

"Building codes, Logan," Hank said.

Logan growled, but continued. "Only way I can see that patched up is to electrify parts of it, or even install poison gas sprayers or—"

"Wolverine…" Storm said admonishingly.

"All right, all right: knock-out gas sprayers." Logan crossed his arms resignedly.

Jason's eyes widened as he pursed his lips. "Wow, no half-assing it around here, huh?"

"Anonymity is our best defense, Jason," Mr. McCoy said. "but even it can only do so much. If per chance word does get out about the true nature of our home, those who hate us will surely invade, one way or another. We need to be ready."

"Oh, I understand perfectly," Jason replied quickly. "I'm just glad people do care that much here." He then turned to Logan. "I assume sooner or later, I'll have to bust in somewhere to show what I learned here, huh?"

"Got it in one, Scarface."

Jason didn't particularly care for the spreading nickname he had been branded with, but he didn't dare argue about it with Logan. Suddenly, Kurt popped out of a cloud to Jason's right, somehow having reoriented himself right-side-up and not spilling the popcorn at all. "Ooh, that one's a fun one. It's the only time we ever get to gas the teachers."

Jason looked quizzical at Kurt.

"Elf!" Logan barked. "What have I told you about telling others about future training exercises?"

Kurt winced. "Sorry…"

"Not sure I want to know anyway…" Jason added. He then looked into the popcorn bowl. "Wow, this looks perfectly…bland."

Kurt looked into the bowl. "What's wrong with it?"

"I don't see any butter…or even salt."

"So?"

"So…you're missing half the flavor!" Jason then thought about what he said. "I take that back: you're missing _all _the flavor."

"If you two are done," Logan growled. "I think I have something to say. Scarface, you got an early morning session with me tomorrow at six. Got it?"

Jason nodded, although inwardly he groaned. "Yes, sir."

"And don't call me, 'sir.'"

"Sorry, s—Logan."

"_I'm afraid we may have to cancel that training session, Logan,"_ came the Professor's mental voice.

Everyone looked up upon hearing that echo through their heads. Then, the doors opened again to permit the Professor in. Jason asked first, "What changed?"

"I just received news that is of great cause for concern." The Professor looked serious. "I assume you all have been hearing about Hurricane Irene on the news."

"Who hasn't?" Jason said. "I've never seen a hurricane get this much media coverage since Katrina."

"Well, I'm afraid it's going to get worse than that. As of today, an official advisory was given for the region: Irene is expected to make landfall in a couple of days in New York."

That got everyone's attention, but not nearly as much as Jason's. "A hurricane? Here?" Jason's voice had a slight edge of worry to it.

The Professor nodded. "It appears to be so."

Jason sighed nervously. Unnoticed by everyone, Storm had looked at Jason with a look of concern in her eyes.

"Because of its approach, all of us must get the grounds ready for this kind of weather, which means all training sessions are cancelled until further notice."

"Cool!" Kurt said.

Jason pursed his lips, trying not to rebuke Kurt.

The Professor continued. "During the time we have, we will all be preparing the grounds for the landfall, and I would advise remaining on the grounds as well, especially on Saturday,"

"When do they think the hurricane will hit?" Scott asked.

"Either late Saturday or early Sunday, which is why we need to spend the next two days preparing. I have no doubt that school will also be cancelled for at least tomorrow."

"Dude, really?" Kurt said enthusiastically. "This is going to be awesome!"

Jason gritted his teeth in annoyance.

Storm interceded. "Kurt, this is serious. A hurricane is no laughing matter."

Kurt didn't seem to take the hint. "Nothing you can't handle, right Storm?"

Jason listened in. He knew that Storm had the ability to create and dissipate storms; could she do the same here and avoid all the trouble?

Storm crossed her arms. "This is a storm that nature created, and I can't stand in the way of nature, no matter how powerful I am. Even if I could dissipate it, I shouldn't. Storms are necessary to restore balance to an unbalanced atmosphere, so I must let it go."

Jason then looked crestfallen; he should have known.

"In the meantime, Kurt, please take this seriously."

"As must we all," the Professor said. "Now I suggest all of you return to your rooms. We have much to do in the next few days."

As the others stirred to leave the observation room, Jason was the only one to hesitate briefly, but then wordlessly left after the others. Storm and the Professor were the only ones left, both for the same reason. Storm spoke, "Did you happen to get a reading of Jason's thoughts when he heard?"

"I didn't have to," the Professor said. "Jason is terrified."

"I assumed as much," Storm replied. "What shall we do?"

"Leave him be for now, but we must keep an eye on him for the next couple of days. Hopefully, tonight will be a quiet one for him."

"I hope so, Professor."

* * *

><p><em>That night, 3:02 AM<em>

"_Please, wake up! Please!"_

Jason stirred in his bed, gasping and moaning as the images poured forth through his mind.

"_Help! Somebody, help! Somebody!"_

"No," Jason moaned. "No…"

"_Somebody please help!" _

"Stop it…"

"_He's going to die! Somebody, please!"_

Jason thrashed around in his bed violently, but the images kept coming. Then, he heard it, a roar.

"_Help me!"_

"STOOOOOOOOP!" Jason screamed as he leaped out of bed. Landing hard, he curled up on the floor, eyes streaming tears as his mouth cried out wails of fear.

His roommate, Piotr, leaped out of bed at the sound of Jason's scream. Looking around in shock, he saw Jason on the floor in a fetal position. He was instantly at Jason's side. "Jason, are you all right!" He was about to touch Jason, and saw the moonlight reflect off his metal skin. Jason's terror had startled him so badly that he had turned into steel without realizing it. Concentrating, his skin returned to normal. "Jason, please, answer me…" he pleaded quietly.

Slowly, Jason uncurled himself, but was still bawling. Piotr helped him sit up. Jason kept saying "oh god" over and over. Piotr grabbed Jason's blanket off the bed and wrapped it around Jason and held him against himself to comfort him, reminded of how his little sister would be like when she had a nightmare; only this looked worse.

The door burst open, admitting Scott and Jean. "Jason? Is everything all right?"

Jean saw Jason on the floor with Piotr. "Oh my god, what happened?"

Piotr kept hold of Jason. "Jason was so scared. His scream made me turn into metal."

"Yeah, we heard it all the way down the hall," Jean said, getting to Jason's side.

Kitty and Rogue then appeared behind Scott. Kitty saw what was going on. "Is he all right?"

Jean felt Jason's face. "He's clammy." She then took Jason's pulse. "And his heart is racing and beating hard. Jason, can you hear me?"

Jason made no response. His gaze was fixed and his breaths were short and quick.

"What is wrong with him?" Piotr said, scared for his friend.

"I don't know," Jean said. "Jason, please talk to us."

Jason made no response.

"We'd better get him to the Professor," Scott said. "Kitty, get the Professor." Kitty took off without a word. "Peter, you and I will get Jason to the Professor's study. "Rogue, get to the kitchen and get Jason some water."

"Better yet," Jean said. "Warm up some chamomile tea. We need to get his nerves calm down."

"Ok," Rogue said, leaving herself.

Jean removed the blanket from off Jason's back, so Scott and Piotr could get Jason on his feet. His condition had not improved. "Come on, Jason. We're going to take you to talk to the Professor. He'll help you..." As Scott and Piotr helped Jason up, Jean spoke to them. "Keep talking to him. We got to snap him out of his trance."

Piotr obeyed immediately as they led Jason out. "Jason, it's me. Please, talk to us."

Scott did the same. "Come on, be a trooper."

In due process of time, Scott and Piotr managed to get Jason to the study. Ever so slowly, the color started returning to Jason's face as they sat him down on the couch, flanked by Scott and Piotr. Jean brought the blanket and wrapped it around Jason. Soon after, Kitty returned with the Professor as well as Storm. Both took one look at Jason and knew what happened. The Professor rolled right up to Jason. "Jason, can you hear me?"

Finally, Jason was able to respond weakly. "I—Where am I?"

"You're in my study at the Institute. Do you remember what happened?"

Jason looked up gingerly and blinked several times. "P-Professor?"

"Yes, I'm here. Jason, I need you to concentrate: do you remember what happened?"

Rogue returned with the chamomile tea, still steaming from the microwave. "I have the tea."

Jean replied. "Thank you, Rogue." Jean then took it out of her hands telekinetically to avoid skin contact with Rogue's bare hands, and then gave it to Jason. "Here, Jason, this should calm you down some."

Jason's hands slowly wrapped around the cup, and he automatically took a couple of sips. Very quickly, his breath slowed and his eyes took a less deathly look. He sighed, "Thank you…"

"All right, Jason," the Professor said. "Answer the question: do you remember anything that happened?"

Jason tried to think, all the while rubbing his chest. His heart had beaten so hard that it ached tiredly. "I-I don't remember. I just remember being spared spit-less…but before that, nothing. It's all a blank."

The Professor leaned back in his wheelchair. "Night terror; something provoked your subconscious into a state of pure fear…yet I get the sense there is more to it than that."

Jason looked up. "What do you mean?"

"Have you had problems with anything like this before coming to the Institute?"

Jason paused to remember. "A couple of times, I think, about right after I got out of the hospital. I didn't tell too many people about it; just my parents and my therapist."

The Professor looked thoughtful for a second and then asked. "Jason, I would like to go into your mind to see what happened."

Jason didn't move, but the Professor knew that Jason had flinched mentally. "I-I don't know if I can…"

"Don't worry; Storm and I are here." The Professor then looked at everyone else present. "The rest of you return to bed; we have much to do in the coming days."

While most of the others got up to go back to bed, Piotr remained rooted to his spot. "Please, Professor, can I stay?"

The Professor looked at Piotr. "That will be up to Jason."

Jason slowly looked at Piotr, and then he looked back at the Professor and nodded. "I'd like that."

"All right," the Professor said. "I suggest you give your tea to Piotr to hold for now."

Jason did so, but had to ask. "You're sure this isn't going to hurt?"

"Yes, now please relax...and try to focus on tonight."

Jason took a deep breath, and then felt a heavy hand grasp his right wrist. He looked and found Piotr looking at him, giving Jason a nod that he was going to be all right. Jason returned a weak smile, and then he took another deep breath and then closed his eyes.

The Professor put his hands softly over Jason's face, his thumbs just above his eyes and his fingers lacing through Jason's hair over his ears. Then, the Professor closed his own eyes and took a dive into Jason's mind.

_The Professor's mental form flew through a beehive of memories, mechanics, emotions and thoughts as he searched for one out of billions. He was looking for a memory, locked away yet resonating so powerfully that it hotwired emotions and thoughts. Then, he came upon the mental equivalent of a locked door, but it was budging, and light was shedding through the cracks. The Professor stood before it, and placed a hand on it. As soon as he did, the beehive around him disappeared in a flash, and then he found himself standing on a road in the middle of nowhere as a storm raged._

_The Professor recognized this place, but only saw it once. This was outside Red Rock, Oklahoma…Jason's hometown. He then realized what this memory contained, and opted to withdraw. The memory was already showing signs of instability; Jason's subconscious was fighting his mind probe as an act of self-preservation. _

"_Please, wake up! Please!"_

_The Professor's gaze shot behind him as the lightning flashed in the night. That was Jason's voice! In the distance, he saw two lights shooting upwards into the sky and immediately strode for it. The voice continued to cry out desperately. _

"_Help! Somebody, help! Somebody!"_

_And then, he saw it. Jason, bloodied and broken, was leaning beside the body of another man, more horrifically injured than Jason was and pinned under a wreaked vehicle. Jason looked around, crying for help._

"_Somebody please help! He's going to die! Somebody, please!"_

_The Professor now understood why this memory was locked away. This was the core of Jason's fear of storms, and rightly so. Suddenly, the wind picked up, and there was a roar in the distance like a freight train. Turning to see, he saw an immense twister come bearing down upon them all, devouring trees and telephone polls as it came. Jason seemed to notice the twister in the memory._

"_HELP ME!"_

The Professor's eyes snapped open and he lurched away from Jason, who himself fell back in his chair and gasped for breath. Piotr helped Jason back up, and immediately looked at the Professor. "What did you see?"

The Professor himself looked tired from witnessing that. "It appears that it is a repressed memory, but heavily distorted. From what I have seen, it was a memory of what happened to Jason on that fateful night."

Jason's eyes shot open. "No, I don't want to hear any more."

The Professor looked compassionately at Jason. "I understand your reluctance, Jason, but I fear if we don't deal with this soon, this memory will—"

Jason started to panic. "Please, Professor. I-I-I don't want to hear anything more about it, or talk about it."

Ororo kept prodding. "Jason…"

"Please, both of you. I know that you're just trying to help…but…" Jason's eyes looked earnest. "…there are some things that are better left buried."

Piotr felt the distress Jason was feeling, and his heart told him to take Jason's side in this. "Professor, if Jason does not want to do it…maybe we should not press him."

The Professor regarded both Jason and Piotr, and then relaxed. "All right, then. But remember Jason, if you ever want to talk about it whenever, we are always here to help you."

Jason finally relaxed. "Thank you, Professor…" As he relaxed, he felt the need for sleep skyrocket inside him. "I'd better get back to bed."

The Professor nodded. "Yes, we have a long day tomorrow. Get some sleep you two."

"Thank you, Professor," Piotr said, handing back the tea to Jason.

Without another word, Jason and Piotr made their way back in their room, leaving the Professor and Ororo to their thoughts and worries. Meanwhile, Jason was silent on the way back, reluctant to talk about anything. Part of him wanted to sleep the night away, but some small part of him was paralyzed with fear of going back to bed, lest the night terror return. A small part of him wanted to talk to the Professor about this as well, but that same fear kept him from facing it. Jason inwardly sighed; there were a lot of times he felt like a coward, and this was one of those times.

* * *

><p><em>Later that morning…<em>

The kitchen was bustling as the students of the Institute milled about getting their respective breakfasts. The Professor had given them all a mental prodding that school had been cancelled and that instead, all students must help in preparing the Institute for the incoming hurricane. More or less, the students were not worried about the hurricane at all, although it was the talk at the table.

"It's gonna stink to be locked up in this place for one or two days," quipped Bobby as he sat down with a bowl of cereal.

"Tell me about it," Tabitha replied. "What's up with that? A girl like me doesn't coop very well…"

"I heard about the hurricane at school yesterday," Ray added. "I even overheard Jean's boyfriend, Duncan, is even throwing a hurricane party on Saturday."

"See, that's what we need!" Tabitha said. "A party! Two days without fun will be enough to put me in the hospital."

"That's a great idea!" Bobby replied. "I'm sure even Kurt and Kitty could even convince others to get down with the idea."

"Oh, they'll be easy," Tabitha said. "The problem is the Prof."

The three at the table didn't say a word for a second, when Bobby got an idea. "Hey, we should try to convince Jason to talk to the Prof."

"The new cutie?" Tabitha said. "Whatever, he's like a professor's pet."

"Maybe, but after last night, he might not be so receptive," Bobby said.

"What are you talking about?" Ray asked.

"Didn't you hear? He completely wigged out last night. It took three of the others to get him calmed down."

Tabitha was all ears. "Time to talk, Bobby. Tell me all about it!"

"All I heard came from the others. What I heard, Jason woke up screaming his head off during the night. Scott, Peter and Jean got him to the Professor to calm him down, but beyond that, I don't know anything."

Ray pursed his lips. "I heard that Jason was a 'special case,' when he first came here."

Tabitha looked skeptical. "Come on, buzzy, you think Jason is crazy?"

"I'm just saying that he might not be quite right upstairs. Both of you heard he was in a really bad accident with his dad, right?"

"Yeah, what of it?" Bobby asked.

"And we've all seen that scar on his head. What if that accident really gave his head such a whack that it…well…changed him? I mean, geez, I wouldn't believe a guy for a minute if he said his head was right after taking a blow like that…well…unless he's Logan. Then again, he's already crazy."

"Aren't you exaggerating a bit, Ray?" Bobby asked.

"You said it yourself that he wigged out last night, Bobby," Ray insisted. "He probably couldn't even tell where he was or who was helping him until the Prof helped him. If he snaps again, who knows what he's going to do?"

"Aren't you being just a_ little_ paranoid?" Tabitha said, smiling.

Ray rubbed his eyes as he got up from the table. "Never mind…" And he walked off.

Both watched him go, and Tabitha promptly said. "So, I'm thinking we should really have Kitty do the asking…"

With the change of subject, Bobby and Tabitha began to hatch a plan to flavor up their little confinement spell they all had to deal with it. If they played their cards right, they could have it without a problem.

* * *

><p>Piotr sat in a chair pulled up along Jason's bed. Jason hadn't moved from the bed since he fell asleep on it after last night. It was getting late in the morning already, but he didn't have the heart to wake up Jason after such a nightmarish night. Piotr stayed up as long as Jason was awake, making sure Jason would at least try to get some sleep. When he finally did, Piotr turned in himself. Now it was morning and Piotr had gotten up first. He had no desire to get breakfast, at least not yet, until he was sure Jason was all right. So he waited here, having pulled up a chair from his desk to watch over him.<p>

As he waited, his mind wandered down different paths of thought. Jason had been at the Institute for about two weeks now, and so much has happened to him: school, a break-in by Toad, a faceoff with Sabretooth, and now this. When he arrived here, things were a little smoother; although that probably had something to do with the fact he had locked himself away for the most part. Jason's arrival was extremely eventful. He couldn't help but wonder why that is. Jason had enough trouble to deal with; why should he have to deal with so much more?

Piotr allowed himself to smile. At one point in time, he imagined that the life he was living was a form of punishment for selling his soul to the devil, as it were, when he served under Magneto in exchange for his sister's health. But since he met Jason, his life had changed. Jason and himself had both experienced nearly unbearable troubles and both carry scars from their affairs with tribulation, yet here they were. Neither of them could have done it on their own; they had to depend on each other, as well as their respective friends. Piotr had to open up himself to even begin to feel better about the choices he made before, and Jason listened to every word. That simple action did so much for Piotr that he felt like he owed Jason a lot for it. Was that why he was sitting here now, as a form of returning the favor? A voice in Piotr's head told him there was more to it than that, but as he tried to come up with the real reason, it evaded him. Why was that?

Suddenly, Jason's breathing changed as he took a deep breath and his head moved slightly. Piotr had noticed this; Jason was finally waking up. He reached out to him to lay a hand on his shoulder. "Jason?"

As soon as Piotr's hand touched Jason's shoulder, Jason bolted awake and his own hand shot out and grabbed Piotr's wrist. Piotr nearly jumped out of his chair in surprise as each of them exchanged wild looks. Finally, Jason relaxed and released his hold on Piotr. "Oh, geez, Peter, don't scare me like that."

"I-I am sorry," Piotr quickly apologized.

Jason quickly replied. "It's okay; I shouldn't have jumped like that…but god, I feel so jumpy today."

Piotr started to relax. "You have better sleep?"

"I guess…" Jason rubbed his eyes. "I feel exhausted though…" Jason then rubbed his chest, wincing at the same time. "…and I can feel my heart in my chest; it's like it's tired. What time is it?"

"A little after nine. School was cancelled today as well…"

Jason sighed a bit. "Well, that's a relief. I guess everyone else is already up and about."

"Yes," Piotr said.

"Well, I guess I'd better get along myself."

Piotr looked concerned. "Are you sure you are all right, Jason?"

Jason looked up at Piotr. "I'm all right, Peter. The Professor said we all have to help get ready for…" Jason cut himself off a bit. "…for you-know-what."

Jason's choice of omitting the word _hurricane_ confused Piotr, and only served to add to his concerns, but he didn't say anything as Jason got up from the bed, rather gingerly Piotr noticed. Jason rubbed his eyes a couple more times and contended to crouch. "Good lord, I feel like my head wants to float away."

Piotr stood up, and laid a hand on Jason's shoulder. "Are you sure?" he prodded.

Jason irritably turned, shoving Piotr's hand off his shoulder with his own. "Peter, I'm fine!" Jason answered.

Piotr was taken aback by Jason's reaction. "O-ok."

Jason rubbed his head. "I'm sorry, Peter, but I really am fine. I just need to eat some breakfast before I do anything. It's just morning shit, s'all. You'd better get breakfast yourself; I'm going to take a shower." With that, Jason grabbed a towel and his personal set of bathing lotions and left the room, leaving Piotr alone.

Piotr sat back down briefly. Despite Jason's reassurances and rebuttals, Piotr was not convinced he was all right at all, and it hurt that Jason wouldn't open up to him. But what could he do right now? Piotr sighed, hoping that Jason would open up before this stress got to his head.

* * *

><p>"Where are we going to put this stuff anyway?" Bobby asked, looking at the lawn furniture in the back lawn of the Institute.<p>

Scott half-glared at Bobby through his shades. "There's plenty of room in the lower levels, Bobby."

Kurt cut in. "I can just port them down without a problem!"

"I'm game for that!" Bobby said.

"We want it to be organized," Scott replied sternly. "If you just port down and leave them, it will be a tangled mess before you get half the furniture down there."

"So, what is the plan then, Fearless Leader?" Bobby quipped.

Scott ignored the shot. "We can take the chairs no problem. Once we can get down there, one of us can stay there and help Kurt put the table down there once he ports it down."

"Sounds easy enough," said a voice coming towards them.

All looked to see Jason, who looked a little pale in the sunlight, coming towards them. "Look who finally decided to join us!" Bobby teased.

"Melt away, Bobby," Jason teased back.

"That just might happen if I stay out here too long. It's hot out here!" Bobby complained.

"Thanks for the weather report," Jason replied sarcastically. "Now back to the news, I think we have a formulating plan on how to deal with lawn furniture clutter?"

"You might say that," Scott said. "You're up to it?"

Jason saw the underlying meaning of that question instantly. His eyes narrowing, he replied a little sharply. "I'm perfectly fine, Scott."

Scott's eyes narrowed slightly behind his shades, but he ignored it. "Okay then, Jason and Kurt, you handle this set of tables and chairs and Bobby and I will handle the set on the other side of the pool. If you need us at all, give us a holler."

Jason's eye twitched in annoyance, but Kurt intervened, "Will do, Herr Visor!"

Scott rolled his eyes at the brand. "Come on, we don't have two days to finish everything, and we already have a late start. Let's get it done! Come on, Bobby."

Bobby cracked a grin. "'Herr Visor,' huh? I'm going to have to remember that one…"

"Take your cue from Jason, Bobby: melt away," Scott replied.

Kurt barely had time to smirk at that exchange, when Jason huffed and began to work with the nearest chair. Kurt looked at Jason. "Are you all—" Kurt shut his mouth quickly, but it was too late.

Jason spun around, his eyes flashing in anger. "I'm fine, Kurt!"

Kurt raised his hands defensively. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean it that way!"

Jason didn't seem convinced. "Well, what do you mean then?"

Kurt found himself tongue-tied to find an excuse.

Jason's brow fell. "Thought so." Jason sharply turned around and heaved a chair over his shoulder. "I'll see you downstairs," he growled as he walked by.

Across the pool, Scott had seen this exchange from afar and could only sigh. Jason was certainly not all right, but he didn't know how much he or anyone could take Jason's temper today.

"_Scott?"_ came a telepathic inquiry.

Scott answered the same way as he worked. _"What is it, Jean?"_

"_What's going on over there? I keep getting brainwaves of rage from near where you are."_

"_That would be Jason. He's not handling things very well but he lashes out at anyone who tries to help him."_

Scott could feel a hint of sadness in Jean's mental voice. _"I was afraid of that. It's almost like back at the hospital; Jason would lash out defensively if he didn't want to face or talk about something."_

"_Nothing we can do about it now. I guess all we can do is try to keep him calm and distracted. If it gets worse, then we'll have to refer to the Professor."_

Jean sighed. _"I guess so. Just…keep an eye on him."_

"_Will do."_ Scott let that part of his mind return to the physical realm and back to work. Jason had already taken one chair down, leaving behind a stung Kurt behind. Scott sighed himself; there were now two storms to get ready for, and one of them was already here.

* * *

><p>Jason took a breather down in the basement levels of the Institute after moving a few pieces of furniture, wondering what had come over him. He hadn't been up for two hours and he already bit off the heads of Piotr, Scott and Kurt. Jason rubbed his head as his mind raced to find out why. All they did was ask if he was all right, and he lashed out at them.<p>

Jason's face hardened at the thought. He was perfectly fine, he told himself, and they knew it. They were just being nice. Somewhere deep within himself, Jason felt a reprimanding voice tell him that they weren't just being nice; they were concerned. But why? He was perfectly fine! Just one bad night and he's being treated like he got diagnosed with terminal cancer, and that pissed Jason off…but did that justify his harsh treatment of his friends?

As his pride and conscience warred, he suddenly had the feeling he wasn't alone. His eyes snapped up and saw the form of Storm come towards him.

Ororo's soft brown eyes met Jason's harsh green ones. "Jason?"

Jason didn't hesitate. "Storm, I mean this with the upmost amount of respect it calls for: if you're going to ask me if I'm all right, my answer will be the same as the last dozen times I was asked it, and it will be the same for the next hundred times people will ask me."

Ororo was a bit taken aback at Jason's attitude, but didn't back down. "You know why they ask you, do you?"

Jason opened his mouth of answer sharply, but something checked his tongue. He then merely sighed and turned away, his pride not letting him answer.

"I know you don't want to talk about it, Jason, or you probably don't even remember last night…"

Jason didn't move, but Jason's face changed at that statement. Truth be told, everything was a blur from the previous night. Last thing he could really remember was talking to the Professor in the study, and before that was the Danger Room session. Despite his curiosity, something told him that it was a good idea not to remember…and that gave him déjà vu.

"…but must you be so angry?"

Jason half-turned to Storm, a glint of anger still in his eyes. "I'm not angry…"

Ororo didn't answer, but her look said everything.

Jason knew he was caught, but his pride wouldn't let up. Turning away again, he huffed. "I'm just frustrated that people keep asking me the same question when I'm perfectly fine."

Ororo sighed quietly; Jason wasn't about to drop his defenses anytime soon apparently. "All I ask is that you keep a level head. It won't help any of us if you keep jumping down people's throats while we are preparing for the hurricane."

Jason didn't move nor speak.

Ororo finally turned away. "If you're ready to help us again, we'll be outside…" She then proceeded to leave Jason.

"Storm," said Jason suddenly.

Ororo stopped and turned back to the teen. "Yes?"

"Has anyone, or a group of people, asked you about where you came from? And does the answer of that question bother you so much that you don't want to talk about it? And when they keep asking you, doesn't it get under your skin?"

Ororo let that series of questions work through her mind, and saw what Jason was really asking for. "Is that what you think they are asking you for?"

Jason looked back at Ororo, the glint still in his eyes. "That's what it ends up becoming. If I tell people I'm not all right, they'll ask why. If I tell them why, they're going to want to know where that comes from, and that is _the_ one thing I am _not_ going to talk about."

Ororo understood. Besides her, there were few others that knew the journey Jason had taken to come to the Institute, and that certain elements of it had probably scarred him for life. "I understand."

Jason finally turned full front to Ororo. "Then you should also understand why I have no desire to talk about last night; not to you, not the Professor, not anyone!" With that, Jason turned to leave.

"Jason, where are you going?"

"Back to work. We have a hurricane coming, right?"

Ororo signed. "All right, but remember what I asked for."

Jason stopped in his tracks, and then looked over his shoulder at Ororo. "You might want to spread the word about giving me some space. Better that way." Jason then left, leaving Ororo alone.

Ororo looked sadly after the boy. Jason was dealing with this the wrong way, and if he didn't realize it soon enough, bothersome questions would be the least of his concerns.

"_Storm?"_ came a telepathic prodding.

Ororo smiled a bit. She figured this was coming. _"Yes, Professor?"_

"_It has come to my attention that Jason is a bit…testy as of late."_

"_You can say that. He's being stubborn regarding last night."_

"_As I feared. Jean had just informed me about an exchange he and Kurt had just moments ago, as well as with Scott."_

Ororo's brow lowered over her eyes. So, it started already. _"He attempted to remain cordial with me, but I could tell he was holding himself back."_

"_Very well. We'll have to keep an eye on Jason, but at the same time give him his space. Hopefully, in time, he'll cool off long enough to realize what he has been doing…"_

Ororo had a feeling that wouldn't happen, but she hoped for that outcome as well. _"All right, Professor."_

"_Good. Keep me updated on Jason if you would." _With that, the Professor closed the mental exchange.

Now alone again, Ororo looked down the hallway Jason had went down. It was bad enough to have to deal with a hurricane this far north, but Ororo had a more foreboding forecast when it came to Jason.

* * *

><p>When Jason returned outside, things were already tense. Jason excused himself from his present work assignment to find something to do that didn't involve company. So he contended to cleaning up any gardening equipment he could find. It was plain as day that he was still seething about something, and everyone could tell. Jason made no attempt to hide what his body language was saying, and quite perhaps he meant it to show. At least people would give him his space.<p>

However, there were a few select people that still wanted to help him. One was Piotr, who watched Jason as he helped with the heavy lifting. They hadn't spoken since earlier that morning when Jason first got up. Piotr wanted to help Jason, but Jason wouldn't accept any help right now. He was just too angry and wrapped up inside himself to see.

"Piotr?"

Piotr shook out of his thoughts and saw Jean walking up to him. "What is it?"

"I need some help with some of the patio tables. I can't carry them all myself with my powers."

"Oh," Piotr looked at the modest amount of deck furniture. "All right."

Jean saw the despondency in Piotr's eyes. "Concerned about Jason?"

Piotr looked at Jean, his brow sinking slightly. "Did you read my mind?"

Jean shook her head. "I didn't have to. Your eyes told me everything."

Piotr sighed, while Jean relaxed. Piotr did not like having his mind being infiltrated as he put it, and staunchly resisted any offer by the Professor when Piotr was in his own depths of despair. In some ways, Piotr was a lot like Jason when it came to stubbornness. Finally, Piotr spoke. "I do not understand why Jason does not want to talk about last night and why he is so angry about it."

Jean sighed herself. "I don't know myself either, Piotr, and I won't dig in to see. The Professor knows what happened last night, and perhaps Storm, but until Jason is up to sharing, we'll just have to let him be."

Piotr looked down sadly. "I cannot stand letting him be like that."

"Neither can we, Piotr, but what can we do if Jason won't allow us to help?"

Piotr didn't have an answer for that, yet it didn't help his own heartache anyway. "I-I cannot just sit by like this! What am I supposed to do?"

Jean smiled a bit. "Be there for him."

That simple answer surprised Piotr. "What do you mean?"

"Remember back at the hospital, when you finally opened up to Jason about what you've been dealing with?"

"Yes?" Piotr replied.

"You confided him with your darkest secrets because you saw something in him to relate your problems with. Even though Jason was a complete stranger, he willingly became your friend right there and then and was there for you."

Piotr remembered that clear as day. "I remember that…but what does this have to do with right now?"

"Right now, the tables are turned. Eventually, Jason will have to confide in someone with his own problem, just like you did with him. Can you do the same?"

Piotr looked a little insulted. "Of course I can! That's what I have been trying to do!"

Jean further explained. "Perhaps you should stop trying, and just do it."

That confused Piotr even more. "I do not understand."

Jean tried not to laugh at Piotr's confusion. "It's simple really. Instead of trying to get it out of him, just step back and let him come to you when he's ready."

Piotr let those words go through his head as his brain slowly digested them. Was it really that simple?

When Piotr made no response for a while, Jean merely added. "It's the same thing we did for you when you were feeling really down those several months ago, Piotr. We just stepped back and waited for you to be ready. Turns out, you needed more than just time…you needed the right person to talk to…and it wasn't any of us. It was him."

Piotr looked at Jason, who was still noisily scooping up gardening tools and tossing them into a wheelbarrow. That was true; there was something about Jason that made him open up, but he hadn't figured it out yet. He hoped to have that answer soon enough. "So, is that what I need to do then?"

"I'd say that's the best thing you can do."

Piotr sighed. "All right, I will try."

Jean smiled. "You're off to a good start. Now, how about those tables?"

Piotr smiled a bit, but that smile faded when he looked at Jason again. Sighing to himself, he turned away and transformed into his steel-self and lifted up a table with ease. If only this stepping-back thing was this easy…

* * *

><p>Before many of them were aware, the noon-day sun beckoned all of them to go indoors to fill their bellies before launching back again into their work. Just like breakfast, the kitchen was abuzz as the students and the rest assembled their respective lunches. The mood was more or less shared by everyone: all were a little tired, but their energy was still boosting. Despite all the work they had done today, the instructors marveled at just how much energy the students kept inside, particularly the New Mutants.<p>

In one corner of the kitchen, Bobby and Tabitha were once again scheming about the upcoming lock-in as it were. "So, I managed to get Kitty in on this, and she is so up for it," Bobby said quietly.

"I told you she would!" Tabitha replied the same way. "I managed to spread the word to Amara and Jubilee as well. But I have to know, what did Kitty say?"

"She said she has an idea how we can get the Professor to allow it. Think we should ask Kurt?"

"It would be a crime to not let little blue wonder boy in on it! Leave him to me."

"Cool," Bobby said. "This could be the coolest hurricane party ever!"

"Shh! Keep it down!" Tabitha hissed. "You don't want the humdrum police ruining it all."

Bobby instantly lowered his voice. "What exactly should we do, anyway?"

"Well, duh! We need music, food and games!"

"I know that, but what exactly should we have?"

"We should get Kitty in on this planning part. I don't care what we have, but as long as it's fun, I'll be rockin'!"

"Good idea."

They were interrupted as the door to the kitchen opened, permitting entry to a sullen and sweaty Jason. He didn't give anyone the grace of a look and headed straight for the cupboards. Both Bobby and Tabitha watched as Jason reached for white bread, peanut butter and grape jelly and briskly assembled a meager sandwich.

"Wow, he's all serious business with that," Tabitha said quietly.

"I know," Bobby said. "It's like he thinks it's a school assignment."

"Or a mission," Tabitha said. "Stinks he's so pissy today; that glare and that sweat make him so hot."

"No comment," Bobby replied.

Both stifled their shared laughter, so as not to attract the oblivious Jason. As soon as he was done, he reached into a bag of potato chips and dumped a few into his plate. He then reached robotically into the fridge, pulled out a soda, and then promptly left the room, not looking at anyone.

"Whew," Bobby said. "If he was any madder, I might have melted." Bobby drank some water down as he looked at the door Jason left through.

"Looks like even the good boy can be bad."

Bobby nearly choked on his water at that, but managed to get it down the right tube. "Dude, he could use a party."

"Tell me about it," Tabitha said. "We really need to make it a good one and make him shake out Gloomy Grumpy…or make him shake that thing. I haven't decided yet."

Bobby finally let himself laugh. "You're terrible."

Tabitha leaned back. "Oh, I know. Now quick, let's go find Kitty and get this thing rollin'."

* * *

><p>Upon leaving the kitchen, Jason went straight to his room. He knew that if he stayed in the kitchen, his pent-up anger would find some kind on an outlet. So, for the safety of everyone at the mansion, he retreated to solitude. He knew that he was already the center of attention in that kitchen, so he made it fast.<p>

He had hoped by being alone from the rest of his peers, he'd finally have a chance to cool off and deal with what was bugging him. The idea of a storm coming rattled him, but it never did before…at least not before the accident. The therapist he went to during the summer as a part of his recovery had noticed Jason's antsy behavior when even a jet-plane roared overhead. While it wasn't bad enough to send him running for the hills, Jason's eyes always shot skyward when the noise happened. Along with a prognosis of Charcot's Syndrome, Jason was also diagnosed with post-traumatic stress disorder or "PTSD" for short. Jason was familiar with that disorder, but only third-hand when he heard soldier's testimonies when they had returned from war. When he himself was diagnosed with it, it was a whole different experience. It hit him almost as hard as being given the prognosis of Charcot's Syndrome, a multiple sclerotic disorder that resembled Lou Gehrig's disease, albeit with usually longer survival times.

When Jason finally pieced together the meaning of the diagnosis back when, he saw that he shouldn't really be surprised. Ever since the traumatic incident that nearly took his life as well as his father's, any thunderstorm or even a noise resembling thunder brought a déjà-vu-like feeling that caused him to be jumpy, swinging from timidity to agitation quickly…just like today, and he knew why: Hurricane Irene.

Jason sighed crossly to himself, glaring at the meager feast on his lap as if the coming storm was its fault. Ever since he heard about the incoming hurricane from the Professor after his session with Logan, Jason had been cross since then, but not as bad as it was today. He even snapped at Piotr, his best friend, and he didn't properly apologize for it. At first, he began to wonder if he should find Piotr and do it properly, but was distracted by his original thought. Why was he so aggravated today? Granted, there was the hurricane and his PTSD, but there was something wrong with this picture. He didn't remember being his antsy even back home when a thunderstorm rolled through; what's different about this time? Maybe last night had something to do with it. He clutched at his aching heart as he thought about last night; all day so far it ached, as if it beat harder than it ever had before, and now it wanted to rest. He could barely remember last night. All he could remember was sitting in front of the Professor and then asking him to let things lie. He didn't think he would ever eat those words, as now he wondered more than ever what set him off today. Now that he thought about it, he didn't want to know about last night at the same time. What if it was so bad that it really should stay buried? Was the reward from digging last night's events back up really worth the risk?

As he was lost in himself, he didn't notice Piotr standing in the doorway of the room, watching him. Piotr had just arrived to the room and had noticed Jason sitting on his own bed, food in lap, but not moving to eat any of it. Piotr wanted to see if Jason was all right, but remembered the conversation he had with Jean earlier regarding Jason. Add that to the fact he needed to get into the room to get some work gloves, this was about to get very awkward. Well, best thing to do right now was the chip away at the ice for now. Piotr cleared his throat.

Jason, startled, looked up to see Piotr. "Oh, geez, how long were you standing there!" Jason said, rather perturbed.

Piotr wilted a bit. "Not long. I just came to get work gloves."

Jason began to relax. "Oh, sorry."

Piotr wordlessly but awkwardly made his way to the room and began digging in his drawers. Jason watched him search but at the same time not really seeing him as his mind was elsewhere. The silence thickened the atmosphere in the room, but neither spoke. There was an elephant in the room, they both knew, but both were reluctant to address its existence. Piotr knew Jason was very reluctant to talk about last night, and Jean advised against him offering to talk about it…but maybe he could at least show that he was willing to listen when Jason was ready. Piotr peered over his shoulder to see Jason had made no move to eat his lunch, despite the fact it hovered inches beneath his nose. Automatically, Piotr asked, "Are you not going to eat, Jason?"

Jason didn't move much as he replied with a sigh. "I thought I was…but I guess I lost my appetite."

Piotr turned around to face Jason. "Are you feeling ill?"

"No, it's not that." Jason put the plate on the bed as he stood up. "It's just my mind is so full of stuff that I can't get a bite in edgewise."

Piotr decided to take the chance. "Do you need to talk about anything?"

Jason sat down again, but on Piotr's bed this time, closer to his friend. "I wouldn't even know where to begin."

Piotr instantly forgot about the work gloves and sat down on the bed beside Jason. "Is your heart still hurting?"

Jason glanced downwards at his chest, and automatically started rubbing it with his hand. "Kind of. It doesn't really hurt; it just aches. I've never felt this kind of pain before…or at least not on my heart."

Piotr remembered that Jean had checked Jason's pulse the previous night when Jason first woke up from what everyone else called a night terror. "I remember Jean checking your heartbeat last night, and she said it was beating hard and fast."

"Feels like it did," Jason said, trying to manage a smile. Then he made a strange face as if considering something.

Piotr noticed. "Jason?"

"It's okay…" Jason replied automatically, but then sighed. "What happened last night?"

Piotr blinked, surprised. "You do not remember?"

"To be honest, it's a bit of a blur. All I remember is talking to the Professor."

"But nothing else?"

"Nothing solid."

Piotr looked away for a second before answering. "Are you sure?"

It was Jason's turn to look away. He didn't speak for a while and Piotr waited patiently. Finally, Jason managed to say, "No…not really."

Piotr held his tongue and waited more as he watched Jason try to decide.

Jason continued. "…I'm a little scared to know."

Piotr had to ask. "Scared of what?"

Jason was about to open his mouth to answer when a knock at the door interrupted them. Both jumped at the noise. Jason's face twisted with annoyance. "Oh for the love of—," he hissed, and then asked louder. "Who is it?"

"Kitty! Can I come in?"

Jason and Piotr looked at each other, sharing a look of puzzlement. "Ok, come on in," Jason finally said.

Kitty didn't bother opening the door and just phased right through it. She took one look at Piotr and Jason and lit up. "Oh, awesome! Both of you are here! That totally makes this easier."

"Makes what easier?" Jason asked.

"I just need to know. Which pop and chips do both of you like?"

Jason's brow fell over his eyes in pure confusion. "What?"

Even Piotr was confused. "Why are you asking us that?"

"It's for the party!"

Piotr was now even more confused. "Party?"

Jason didn't move any, but his eyes cast a glint of agitation. "What…party?"

Kitty seemed completely oblivious to Jason. "Oh, you know, since for the next couple of days we'll like be cooped up in the Institute and we'll totally go crazy unless we do something! So we're throwing a hurricane party! Isn't that like the coolest idea ever?"

Piotr was now really confused. "A hurricane party?"

Jason's reaction was more pronounced. "A hurricane _party_!" he roared angrily. "What kind of bullshit is that!"

Kitty and Piotr were taken aback at the explosion of fury from Jason. Now it was Kitty turned to be confused. "What's the matter?"

Jason looked incredulously angry. "'What's the matter,' she says. You're throwing a party in the middle of a _hurricane_! What do you think the matter is?"

Kitty could only sputter.

"What is it about the coming of a hurricane that makes you break out the cake? Is it the wind? The houses flying apart or washing away? Or is it the people who drown out in the ocean when they are caught outside in a storm surge!"

"Jason!" Piotr said admonished, but Jason ignored him.

Kitty eyes narrowed angrily. "Like _that's_ what you think this is? It's just a party, Jason! What's your problem?"

Jason looked about ready to have a stroke. "_My _problem? I think you 'like' have the problem!" Jason pointed at the boorish scar on his face. "Do you see this scar? What do you think I got this from, a train wreck? I suggest you forget this crazy idea, Kitty! The Professor wouldn't allow such a stupid party, and to be perfectly frank, I'm not going to cry a single tear to see that party squashed!"

Piotr tried again. "Jason, please!" But Jason again ignored him.

Kitty crossed her arms. "Well, you are so wrong, mister! He said as long as we keep it calm, we can have it!"

Jason did not respond right away, but that pause spoke volumes. Jason flushed nearly instantly with raw fury. "What…did you say?" he asked quietly.

"He said we can have it as long as we're calm about it! We'll have food and some games, that's all! Nothing loud or messy, so you don't have to raise such a big fuss about it, Jason!"

Jason finally had enough. "Is everyone completely FUBAR around here? Am I the only one who at least has the respect to not joke around while people die out there!"

"We're just trying to have some fu—" Kitty shouted back, but Jason cut her off.

"Kitty, you can just take your stupid little party and shove it up…" Jason cut himself off, as if he wanted to say something, but couldn't muster up the courage to say it. Finally, he blurted out, "Damn it all! You pissed me off so much, I can't even say what I want to say!" He then yelled. "I've had enough of this!" With that, he marched right by, threw open the door and left a dumbfounded Piotr and a flustered Kitty behind.

Jason marched straight towards the elevator that led to the lower levels, hoping to use the Danger Room to smash some things. He was so angry that he didn't even notice Jean standing near the door to his room, having heard the noise and had come to investigate. "Jason!" Jean called to him. "What's wrong?"

That question. That one stupid little question nearly made Jason burst like an overripe tomato. He spun right around with a near murderous glint in his eye and shouted. "With all due respect, Jean, SHUT UP!" With that, he stormed away again. Reaching the elevator, he decided against it and took the stairwell nearby, slamming the door behind him.

Jean willed herself to stay calm, and looked into see Kitty and Piotr, all sharing stupefied looks at seeing Jason's outburst. But before she could ask, Scott, also having heard the noise, came up from behind Jean. "What the hell's going on up here? I could hear that from the parlor."

Kitty answered angrily. "You tell me! I was just asking Jason about some stuff and he totally flipped out!"

"I do not understand," Piotr said, looking shocked. "Why did he get so angry?"

Jean spoke up. "One at a time. Kitty, what did you ask him?"

"I was just asking him what kind of chips and drink he would like to have at the party but—"

Scott cut her off. "Wait a second. What party?"

"Oh, I was going to ask you guys next. See, Kurt, Tabitha, Bobby and I are organizing a hurricane party so we could not just totally sit around in here since we can't do anything out there because of the hurricane. The Professor said it was ok as long as we kept it calm, so I thought we could have some food, some music and some games, that's all!"

Scott and Jean looked at each other briefly. "Sounds all right and all," Scott said, although he was a little uncomfortable with the feeling of a party during a hurricane for his own reasons. "So, what went wrong?"

"That's just it, I don't know! As soon as I said it was going to be a party, he just flipped out! He kept saying stuff about houses being destroyed and people dying and that I should feel bad for throwing a party when that stuff happens! I mean, totally, what's up with that? I like don't mean to be disrespectful, but that stuff happens all the time on the other side of the world! What's his problem?"

Scott had to process all the stuff Kitty said before he could answer. Kitty had a mad ability to say a terrible amount of stuff quickly, and it was easy to miss something if one wasn't paying attention. "Ok, I think I missed something."

"I think I know," Jean said suddenly.

"You do?" Kitty and Piotr said at once. Kitty continued. "Did you like totally read his mind?"

Jean looked affronted. "I wouldn't snoop like that unless I didn't have the choice, Kitty."

"_Oh, really?"_ Scott thought, trying not to smile.

"_Be quiet, Scott,"_ Jean replied the same way. Aloud, she continued. "Kitty, did you say outright that it was a hurricane party?"

Kitty was confused at that question, but answered. "Yeah, I like said that. Why?"

Jean sighed. "Kitty, Jason has PTSD. That scar on his head came from a tornado."

Kitty didn't make the link. "So?"

"So," Jean reiterated. "Jason is very right about saying how terrible hurricanes are. He's a victim of the most violent windstorm of the planet. He was one who survived where others have died. Do you remember all those tornadoes on the news this year? Hundreds died, and thousands were hurt. A lot of them…are like Jason right now: angry, scared, and appalled at the idea of people celebrating stuff like this."

Kitty began to relax, finally beginning to understand. Piotr as well finally comprehended Jason's outburst. "I-I had no idea…" he said.

"That's sad," Kitty finally said. "But we totally don't mean this party like that!"

"I know you didn't," Jean replied. "But that's how Jason sees it because of what happened to him. He almost lost his father in that same tornado too."

Kitty had forgotten that detail, but Piotr remembered that. Jason's father, Patrick Downs, was now a paraplegic after his spinal cord was severed when the car they were driving when the tornado hit nearly crushed him. Jason never talked about that night, and everyone at the Institute simply referred to it as "the accident."

Piotr finally spoke up. "What do we do now?"

Jean looked out where Jason had stormed out. "Leave him alone. Jason's so mad that he can't think straight. The Professor or Storm will talk to him when they feel it is best, but for now, let's just get back to work so we can at least have a safe place to stay when the hurricane comes."

Kitty and Piotr nodded, and then walked out of the room. Jean lingered for a bit, her thoughts obviously on Jason. Scott picked up on that. "He'll be ok, Red."

"Yeah, I know," Jean said. "Let's go."

With that, they left the room, closing the door behind them.

* * *

><p>Jason was so angry that his face was nearly unrecognizable, twisted and tortured by every synonym of rage. Having left behind everyone in his room, he had stormed to the basement levels of the Institute, suiting up and hoping to use the Danger Room to take out his fury. Unfortunately, to start a simulation, he needed a passcode from a member of the X-Men to activate it, and he was not one. This only angered him more and so he locked himself inside and vented, taking out his rage on the walls. He kicked at them and smacked them with his bare hands. Despite knowing he could do far more damage with his mutant ability, it wouldn't satisfy him in the least. Even then, this was not satisfying him. Suddenly, one bad hit made him cry out in pain instead of anger. Grasping one hand, he held it against himself as it quickly changes from red to the most wonderful shade of blue. Looking at it, he sat down against the wall of the Danger Room to nurse his hand, wondering if he broke it.<p>

"A mark of a man is his restraint of his passions," said a voice.

Jason looked up from his bruised hand to see that the Professor had come into the room. Jason didn't even see or hear him come in because of his tirade. Jason's face wrinkled up in irritation. "Yeah? Well, sometimes it just feels _so_ good to give into them once in a while."

"At appropriate times, yes," the Professor said. "Yet it seems you've discovered the consequences of what happens when they go unrestrained for too long."

Jason looked at his hand. Yes, it looked pretty bad, but he was too proud to admit it. "It's just a bruise."

The Professor looked knowingly at Jason. "Jason, I saw how hard you punched that wall. You might have broken your hand."

"It's fine!" Jason said defensively, and even flexed his hand to prove his point…only to grasp it again in pain.

The Professor rolled up beside Jason and took Jason's hand. "All evidence to the contrary." Jason was about to object, but grudgingly relented and let the Professor inspect his hand. "This looks bad, Jason. We should go to the infirmary."

Jason mumbled quietly. "Like you care."

The Professor looked up, having heard it partially. "Do you have something to say to me, Jason?"

Jason looked at the Professor angrily briefly, considering his words. Finally, he ripped his own hand from the Professor's grasp and walked a short distance away. Then, he spoke. "Hurricane party."

The Professor didn't answer and looked at Jason. "Perhaps Kitty's choice of words was unknowingly insensitive."

Jason's eye twitched. "I don't care if she called it a bridge club! Seriously, Professor? A party in the middle of a hurricane?"

"We will be locked in at the Institute for two days at most, Jason. Surely you can understand that all they want to do is keep themselves entertained."

Jason wanted to respond, but he couldn't find the words. Deep down, he knew the Professor was right. There was nothing wrong with keeping oneself amused when cooped up, yet he still couldn't bring himself to admit it.

The Professor knew that he has Jason in a difficult spot, and that he was now wrestling with his pride. To tip the war to his favor, he decided to prod. "You and I both know that the source of your anger is not the fact that there is a so-called hurricane party. You are using it as the excuse to unleash, but the true source is something else."

Jason finally scowled at the Professor. "Finding what you are looking for, Professor?"

The Professor knew what he was referring to. "I didn't have to pry, Jason. I knew that you would be bottling up your emotions after last night after you pleaded to not talk about it. Do you still stand by your decision?"

Jason didn't answer. Only moments ago, he was ready to talk about it with Piotr when Kitty crashed the party, as it were. That ruined any chance of him ever opening up, because right now, he didn't want to talk about anything, least of all with the Professor right now. "As a matter of fact, Professor, I do," he said icily, and then turned to walk away.

The Professor watched him go. "It's a shame, Erik."

Jason stopped in his tracks, and slowly turned around with a strange look on his face. "What did you call me?"

"You merely reminded me of a young man I once knew who wanted to do so much for the world, but let anger poison him so far that his goals were corrupted to become evil. His name was Erik Lehnsherr. When I met him long before you were born, he had amazing power, but I didn't' suspect that under all that was the heart of a tortured child that saw his mother and father die in a prison camp."

"Prison camp?" Jason said. He was so surprised by this turn of events that he nearly forgot to be angry.

"Yes, Erik was one of few survivors from Auschwitz in Poland. His father and mother were executed by the Nazis, and he was only a child, witnessing the lowest humanity has ever fallen."

Jason didn't say anything, but his curiosity soon wedged itself between him and his pride. Jason finally sighed. "No wonder he was so angry."

"His anger is justified, yes, but there is a fine line between justice and revenge, and he didn't see it…and still doesn't. I tried to show him the path that he was walking would lead to nothing but a trail of tears, left by innocents he would harm, intentionally or no…and by himself."

Jason's brow deepened. "And you think that will happen to me?"

"What good can come of holding on to your fury, Jason? Fire left unchecked will not burn itself out until it has destroyed everything close to it. So does rage. It will not stop until it has burned away everything you hold close and dear to you…just as it did to Erik. From what I can see, he can't care for those who are closest to him anymore. All that's left now is someone else entirely. When fire burns at the forest, nothing is left…" The Professor trailed off.

Jason took the bait. "But…?"

"…but sometimes, hope still remains. Are you familiar with the jack pine tree?"

"Can't say that I am."

"It's an unusual tree that grows in the Pacific Northwest. Unlike most pine trees, it will not open its cones when the seeds mature. Often, they stay locked away for years. Only fire or extreme cold can open them. When a fire ravages the forest, the cones finally open up, yet the seeds do not burn because the cones open only partially. When the fire finally dies, the cones open further to allow a forest to be reborn."

Jason was fascinated. He had never heard of such a tree, and its tale was truly inspiring. "Well, what do you know?"

"Indeed. Yet I must wonder: must it take a raging fire to unleash hope?"

Jason remained silent, but his eyes shared the train of thoughts churning through his mind.

"Whatever you glean from this, Jason, I hope that you are happy with the choice you have said you stand on. I often wonder if Erik is." The Professor turned to leave. "I'll ask the students to leave you alone for the time being. What you choose to do with that time alone is up to you." With that, the Professor began to leave.

"Professor?" Jason said.

The Professor stopped, but didn't turn to Jason. "Yes?"

"This man named Erik…," Jason began. "You said he was a mutant too, right?"

"Yes."

"What was his power?"

The Professor didn't say anything briefly. Finally, after a few agonizing seconds, he turned his head to Jason and replied with one word: "Magnetism." And then he left the room.

Jason spun around, only to see the Professor had left. He remained fixed to his spot, lost in thought at that revelation, and it reviled him and shocked him at the same time. The Professor seemed to know just what to say to someone. It happened so often that Jason had to wonder if the Professor wasn't entirely honest about the use of his telepathic powers. Still, whether he used them or not, the Professor did end up being right after all. Jason sighed to himself; he knew what he needed to do now. It was a lot easier to punch the wall again.

* * *

><p>After lunch, all the students had returned to preparing the Institute for the hurricane, fueled all the more by a TV report that Governor Cuomo had declared a state of emergency for New York City and the surrounding areas, calling for a mandatory evacuation of all low-lying areas in the region. While the Institute was built on the cliffs overlooking the bay, the urgency of the announcement had many wondering how bad it really was going to be.<p>

Jason had not returned to work and there was a mixed bag of reactions to that. Some were relieved that he was taking a break from them, while others were concerned about him. Most of all, Piotr was confused and concerned. He had never seen Jason so angry before, and it had rattled him. For the last couple weeks, he had seen Jason as a fun-loving but level-headed guy, but today had changed everything. Jason too had a dark side and it was a savage beast that would not take reason. Seeing that had hurt him, but at the same time he berated himself for not realizing how sensitive Jason was about storms. When Jason had stormed out of the room, Piotr sat on his bed for a good long time trying to figure out what happened. He knew he wasn't the brightest of the X-Men, but after listening to Jean reminding Kitty that Jason has PTSD after the tornado, he began to piece together the source of Jason's anger.

Jason had been through the worst that nature had to offer and have barely escaped with his life. Even the hardest man would be forever changed by that, and Jason was a sensitive soul. To him, it had to have been devastating. He didn't understand much about PTSD, but his father had once told him about soldiers with war trauma and Piotr had a hunch they were similar. If he remembered correctly, traumatized people exhibited agitation and paranoia when something provoked the memory of their trauma. In Jason's case, the very idea of a storm as massive as a hurricane brought to mind the haunting image of a tornado bearing down upon him. Jason's response was to lash out irrationally and defensively, as if trying to perhaps wash away the image in his mind by attacking the provocateur. Rationality had nothing to do with it; it was purely instinctual. Leave it to adversity to bring out the beast in anyone. Now, Jason was now isolating himself from anyone, festering in his pride and his anger like a wounded beast. Piotr looked down sadly; Jason had nearly opened up to him only moments before, but as chance would have it, Kitty unwittingly set him off, provoking Jason to shut the gates around his defenses again. Piotr wondered when he would be able to reach him again, and whether Irene's approach would continue to gnaw at Jason.

"You still worried about him?" said a voice.

Piotr looked to see Rogue having stepped beside him, carrying some gardening equipment Jason had neglected to get earlier. Piotr then looked at the Institute. "Yes."

"He'll come around. He's just dealing with a lot on his mind and needs his space."

"Yes, I know…" Piotr replied.

"He's tough. I know that much about him," Rogue said. "Well, we'd better get back to work."

"Rogue…" Piotr said suddenly.

Rogue turned back. "What?"

"When you touched Jason back on the rooftop…" Piotr said. "What did you see?"

Rogue remembered that all too well. Whenever she touched someone, his or her life-force, memories and physical abilities would transfer right into her at an alarming rate. Rogue never tested the extent of her abilities because of how lethal it was. She only used to borrow mutant abilities or to get a foe out of the way for the meantime. It didn't take long of a touch. She had only touched Jason for less than two seconds on the rooftop and it did the trick. Jason was in a coma again for hours, and the memories that were foremost in Jason's mind at that moment had nearly overwhelmed her with how powerful they were. While most of the memories of others she touched often faded over time, along with the respective powers or abilities, this one had stayed. She was surprised she didn't have nightmares over it. Looking at Piotr, she said. "It's not my place to say."

Piotr looked sadly away.

"But I can say this:" Rogue added, her eyes distant in reflection. "He will need someone to listen to when he does want to talk about it."

Piotr smiled slightly, and then thought about something. "Have you thought about asking him?"

Rogue looked at Piotr. "Yeah…but I can't."

This surprised Piotr. "Why not?"

"How can I talk to someone about that? I saw his memories, I felt them too. But he was there. I know he doesn't want to talk about it, because _I_ don't want to talk about it!"

Piotr understood that much. "Yet when he learn you know his memories, he may want to ask you."

Rogue was surprised at the level of certainly Piotr had behind that statement. "How can you be so sure?"

"He asked me about last night because he did not remember. If he knows you know, he want to ask you."

Rogue pondered this for a bit, but answered. "I-I can't."

"I think you can, Rogue. I think you are the only one who can do it now…before it is too late." Piotr looked up to the southern sky, as if seeing something approaching that was invisible to all eyes but his own.

Rogue continued to ponder what Piotr had said. As she thought about it, she really did want to know how Jason handled it. It was almost too much for her to bear; it had to be crushing for Jason to hold it in. Maybe she really should talk to Jason about it. Did she really have the nerve? That was a whole new question, and Rogue knew she didn't have a lot of time to answer it for herself. She left Piotr to work some more, but found that she couldn't concentrate on it. Flashes of Jason's memories etched through her mind, reminding her of what Jason had experienced and had been suppressing. If she herself was having them distract her, who's to say Jason's mind wasn't doing the same? She knew now that she needed to talk to Jason about it…if only to quell the fears she had regarding them. Now, however, was not the time; there was too much to do for Irene's inevitable landfall, and since Jason was not coming back out, they needed all the help they could grab. She would have to ask later.

She hoped she didn't wait too long.

* * *

><p><em>Saturday, August 27<em>_th__, 2011; 8:02 PM_

The previous two days were busy for the Institute, but despite all the labor they had to do, they were able to pull it off in time. Jason had not returned to the workflow the rest of the day on Friday, but helped some earlier on Saturday. He was given all the space he needed, which was fine by him. It gave him time to think, but he couldn't help but feel some of the scrutinizing looks he received. He deserved them, he guessed.

As the day progressed, the winds began to pick up and Jason promptly retreated inside and wasn't seen for the rest of the day. As evening set in, high winds and cooling temperatures heralded the hurricane's approach, and before night set in, a disc of dark cloud slowly made itself visible south of the island. Quickly after that, the winds began to pummel the island and the nearby states of New York and New Jersey.

Hurricane Irene had finally arrived.

But despite the threat, not all feared the meteorological harbinger of destruction. Those who heeded the warnings were now clear of the storm surges that were about to ravage the lowlands. That was no concern of the students at the Xavier Institute for Gifted Children. Inside, there was fun and games as a calm little party to stave off boredom and cabin fever was well underway. The previous day, Bobby, Tabitha and Kitty began scheming to put together a "hurricane party," and had gotten clearance to put something together by the Professor, providing it was nothing more than friendly past times and nothing obnoxious. So, as soon as some of the students got away from hurricane preparations, they took off to the city to get ready for the party. Now, there was a slight disagreement on just how to make a party tame enough for the Professor's request, when they suddenly came upon the same idea: horror movie night. The next dilemma: which movies to choose from. All of them knew that finding a truly scary movie amongst so-called horrors took a bit of knowledge…and a bit of luck. Thankfully, Bobby was a horror-movie nerd, and knew exactly what to look for.

So, as the winds began to roar outside, the locked-in students began clamoring around the couch as Bobby got the first movie ready: _The Ring_. When the older students got wind of what the party would become, reservations were put aside. Scott reserved a spot for Jean, who was not slow on joining her best friend on the couch, with a bowl of popcorn.

"You know, I thought this party was a bad idea when I first heard it," Scott said.

"Just shows that sometimes it's good just to kick back once in a while and just enjoy the day," Jean cooed.

"Hey, I know how to have a good time!" Scott protested.

"Only after we hogtie you down and demand you take a break," Kurt jeered, bringing in another bowl of popcorn.

"Very funny, 'fuzzy one,'" Scott quipped.

"Shh, the movie's about to get started!" Bobby hissed, taking his spot in a beanbag on the floor.

All the others stopped murmuring their respective conversations and sat down as the previews began playing. Bobby reached for the remote to skip the previews, a voice interrupted him. "Has anyone seen Jason?"

Scott looked to see Piotr behind them, a confused look on his face. "No, can't say I have."

Bobby added. "No one has seen the Grinch since earlier today, big guy."

Piotr looked shocked at the insult, while Jean admonishingly responded, "Bobby!"

"Sorry," Bobby apologized. "I'm just saying what everyone else is thinking."

Jean couldn't fault Bobby on those feelings, but seeing Piotr looking hurt at those accusations against his best friend, she knew she had to say something. "It doesn't excuse it, Bobby. Jason is having a really tough time right now, and we need to understand his feelings." Bobby didn't reply, but Jean could see the others' faces showed that they knew, but at the same time, Jason did not make it easy these last couple days. Jean added. "I know Jason has been really hard on us, especially since he caught wind of the party, but we just need to respect his feelings and give him the space he needs."

None answered, but Scott did bring up. "Speaking of space, I don't think we've really answered Piotr's question."

"Hold on," Jean thought. Closing her eyes, she concentrated as her telepathic mind searched the inside of the Institute for any sign of Jason. Quickly, she got a hit. Jason was located in the storage rooms outside the Danger Room. Apparently, he had taken his blankets and pillows from his room and settled down in the room. "He's in the lower levels. I'm guessing he's trying to get away from the noise outside."

"I didn't know he was scared of storms," Bobby said, a little disdainfully.

Jean's chestnut eyebrows fell over her eyes in annoyance. "If you understood why he is, you wouldn't blame him."

Scott headed things off, foreseeing a fallout building. "I think we can talk about that another time. Let's not ruin the night for everyone."

Jean sighed. "Yeah, you're right."

Bobby too relented. "Yeah."

Piotr was silent, and as the movie began to play its opening scenes, he turned and left, his mind leaving him and searching the lower reaches of the Institute for Jason, wondering what he was doing or thinking.

* * *

><p>In the darkness of the Danger Room hallways, Jason wrapped himself in a thick blanket as he searched for solace in the silence the darkness appeared to promise. Despite the peace here, he was still conscious about the violence nature was wreaking on the world outside, and it kept him on edge. He had been down here for hours, not even going up for food. His stomach growled but the kitchen had a large window that would doubtlessly display the destruction nature was dealing at the present. He couldn't bear to even think about the storm, even though it was at the forefront of his mind.<p>

He was mildly surprised that no one came down to look for him. After all, they had to know where he was, at least the Professor and Jean. Jason looked down sadly as he wrapped the blanket tighter around himself. The last time he had even conversed with any of the others, he blew up in front of Kitty and Piotr, and after the lecture from the Professor soon after in the Danger Room, Jason had been very down. Ever since then, he isolated himself from the others. Last night was rough in itself: Jason had gone to bed early but was still awake when Piotr himself turned in. Neither spoke, but the silence had spoken volumes to both of them. Piotr was somewhat intimidated to speak to Jason, and Jason was too hurt to speak to him. So, silence reigned that night, and Jason didn't know a time he felt lower than he did that night. He was on the verge of crying himself to sleep, but sleep took him before that happened.

The next day had been more of the same, only Jason's heart was not in it. He worked alone, slowly but deliberately, as if forcing himself to do it. He quit after lunch and disappeared from wandering eyes. He had gone to his room, retrieved a couple blankets and pillows, in addition to a flashlight, and took off for a storage room he knew was empty. Ever since then, he had been here, wallowing in depression and self-pity. Part of him was blaming himself for being such a jerk to the others and not apologizing for it presently, yet at the same time, another small part of him would not allow him to apologize for what he did. It made excuses that they would never understand, or were too absorbed in having fun they wouldn't understand. At once, another part would chastise his pride saying that Piotr would never be like that. The thought of how he treated Piotr silenced Jason's mind instantly. It was bad enough that he blew up in front of his friends, but blew off the closest thing he had to a best friend that he could remember. The depression hit him anew. How could he have done that to him? Piotr hadn't deserved that at all; he had been through enough crap in his life that he didn't need a cowardly brainsick kid lashing out at him. But what was he supposed to do now? If last night was any indication, Piotr might not even want to talk to him. Jason knew he needed to apologize, but if Piotr wouldn't hear him out because of how Jason treated him, how could he?

Jason sighed to himself. _"I royally screwed up this time, didn't I?"_ he thought.

He half-expected Jean or the Professor to reply to his thoughts, but he met only silence in the mental realm of existence. Seems like the Professor made good on his promise that he would be left alone. Alone he was…very alone. Jason looked at the darkness around him. It promised him solitude, and it gave him just that, and now…he didn't want to be alone anymore.

A knock on the door startled him, interrupting his gloomy thoughts. "Who's there?"

"It's just me!" said a voice.

Jason recognized it. "Rogue?"

"Yeah, mind unlocking the door?"

Jason was surprised: of all the people of the Institute to check up on him, it was the "recluse" of the mansion that came to visit him? Huh, maybe what they said was right: misery _does_ love company. "Ok, hold on a sec." Jason stood up, turned on his flashlight and made his way to the door, fumbling over the blanket once or twice. Soon enough, he unlocked the door and opened it. Blinking in the light, he saw Rogue standing just without. "What are you doing here?" Jason asked.

Rogue brushed her white locks of hair from her eyes. "I just thought I'd check on you. No one's seen you since you left this afternoon."

"You know why, right?" Jason said wearily.

"Yeah…" Rogue shrugged. "…but when you didn't show up for supper, we began to wonder." Rogue then held up a plate of beef jerky, summer sausage and salt crackers. "I know it ain't much…but it's something."

Jason's stomach growled instantly at seeing the snack food, and he had to swallow.

"Mind if I come in?" Rogue asked.

Jason's eyes didn't leave the dish. "Yeah, ok." Jason slid the door open more to let Rogue in. Jason and Rogue walked towards where Jason had dropped his blankets and Jason and Rogue sat down against the wall. Rogue handed Jason the dish and he dug in. He never thought beef jerky or summer sausage would taste so good. After a minute of devouring, Jason noticed that Rogue didn't say a word. Jason swallowed his latest bite and choked out, "Thanks, Rogue."

"Anytime."

"I thought you'd be upstairs with the others at the…well…you know."

"Nah," Rogue said. "Horror movies are nice an all, but it's too crowded up there for me."

Jason only sighed. "Well, thanks for coming down anyway."

Rogue managed a small smile. "Looks like it was a good idea to bring food too."

"Yeah," Jason said, about to take another bite, when guiltily he looked at the plate. He had eaten half of it already and gave nothing to Rogue. He looked at Rogue, and made to pass the plate to her.

"Hey, don't worry about it. I already ate. Besides, I mainly brought it for you."

Now Jason managed a small smile. "Then I guess I have two things to thank you for." Jason obliged himself to more summer sausage. "But I have a hunch you're here for more than just giving me food."

Rogue looked away briefly, and that was more than enough for Jason, yet he held his tongue.

Finally, Rogue spoke up. "I know what you are going through, Jason."

Jason nearly choked at those words, and he had to swallow before answering. "How would you know that?"

"Because I can see what happened to you in my mind, as clear as day. And you have every right to be terrified by it."

Jason paled. The rational side of his mind tried to explain it, but failed. Rogue was no telepath. "H-how would you know that?"

"You know how my powers work, right?"

Jason's mind worked again. "Yeah. Whenever your skin touches the skin of another, you drain them of their life force, right?"

"Yeah, but there's more to it than that." Rogue reached for one of her gloves and pulled it off, showing her pale skin underneath. "If I were to touch you right now, your life force, your memories, and your special abilities would flow right into me, and you might end up in a coma."

"My memories _and_ my special abilities?" Jason asked, eyes widening.

"Uh-huh, and that's how I know what you are going through."

Jason looked at Rogue strangely, when his mind suddenly brought up a fact: he had no memory of being touched by Rogue. "What a minute, when did you do that? I would think I would remember that."

Rogue looked at Jason closely. "You don't remember?"

One of Jason's eyebrows shot up. "Remember what?"

Rogue looked away, considering her words. "It was the night we—the X-Men—first met you. That night, you were attacked."

"Attacked?" Jason processed aloud. "By who—" Then it hit Jason like the tornado had. "You were there?"

"Yes, but not until the end. When we arrived, you had…gone crazy."

Jason's brow deepened. While that night haunted him, the end of that experience was a blank to him. All he remembered after escaping Deathstrike was a storm coming in, and then he blacked out. He couldn't remember anything—save this sensation of loving arms—between the storm and him regaining consciousness back in the hospital. "I…I don't remember that."

"Well, I do." Rogue looked at Jason. "Your powers went crazy and we had to try to calm you down before you destroyed the whole hospital. There was only one way for us to calm you down: I needed to drain off some of your powers so you could settle down. Peter distracted you enough so I could."

"Peter did?" Jason asked. "What did he do?"

Rogue brushed her white locks away from her eyes again. "All he did was hug you, but it did the trick. All I did from there was touch your shoulder and drain you a bit."

Jason looked away a bit, barely hearing the last part of Rogue's narration as his mind left the room they sat in. The sensation he felt in his memories. He thought they were his father's arms, hugging him as a kid. _"Those were Peter's arms?"_

"Jason?"

Jason's mind snapped back to reality. "Oh, sorry. Guess I zoned out for a sec. So, you had to drain me?"

"Yeah, and when I did…I saw that night…the one you never talk about."

Jason's mind froze briefly. That one night that changed his life forever, that one horrific night. He had tried to lock it away forever inside his head to forget it, but a night like that never forgets the people who experienced it. Sometimes when he was on the verge of falling asleep, he could still hear himself crying for Dad to wake up. Jason looked at Rogue. "What did you see?"

Rogue's eyes widened slightly as those four words processed through her mind. It wasn't a question of doubt, but of yearning. Jason really wanted to know. At the same time, however, the images she had gotten from Jason had shaken her at the time. It was amazing she didn't have nightmares about it in the days after she had touched Jason, possibly even miraculous. Ever since then, the images decayed to a simple thought that would only pop up if something reminded her of them. "I don't know where to start, really. Some are a little blurry now, but one remains clear."

Jason both craved and dreaded the answer to his next question. "And which image is that one?"

Rogue's expression turned sad. "Holding onto your father as the car is thrown around."

Jason paled instantly, falling back against the wall. Rogue instantly was on alert. "Jason, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have told you."

Jason took some slow breaths, and the color began to return to his face. "That's what I get for asking."

"Are you ok?"

"Yeah…" Jason said. "It's just…I never expected someone else to really see..." Jason swallowed. "…it. And I mean actually_ see_ it." Jason tilted his head a bit.

"You don't think the Professor saw it when he looked in your head a couple nights ago?"

Jason straightened up a bit and looked at Rogue. "You know, I barely even remember that night."

Rogue leaned back. "You were pretty out of it that night."

"Yeah, I guess I was." Jason looked at Rogue. "Have you ever talked about that with anyone?"

Rogue shook her head. "You're the first."

That surprised Jason. "Why?"

"Why haven't you?"

Jason didn't expect the rebuttal of his own question, and his brain froze briefly as a result. Looking away, he finally breathed out. "How can I? Who would understand that kind of pain?" Jason blinked hard in the darkness.

Rogue took Jason's hand into a gloved one. "I can try…and so can the rest of us."

Jason looked up at Rogue, and in the dim light, Rogue thought she saw more light reflect off Jason's eyes than usual. Jason then sighed and shut his eyes tightly. "It's just so hard…to face it all over again. I couldn't even talk about it with the Professor and Storm a couple nights ago. Like a coward, I asked them to forget about it because I didn't want to talk about it…because I _never_ want to talk about."

Rogue could understand why. Seeing it herself on that rooftop that night, she understood completely.

"But…at the same time…I don't want to face it all alone. I wasn't alone when it happened, but I almost was. Being alone terrifies me almost as bad as the storm outside does. Did you know that one of the excuses I had for not coming here to the Institute was because I would be alone with my fear? My dad was the only other one who's been through what I've been through, and he was not traumatized by it. Whenever it stormed at home, I could always count on him to be there to talk to me while I hid in the basement. He didn't have to come down to make sure I was fine, and being a cripple, he shouldn't have had to…but he did. It was for that reason why my parents invested in one of those sliding-lift things you see on TV.

"Coming here was terrifying, because at the back of my mind I knew that if a storm came here, my dad wasn't going to be here. I would be completely alone." Jason made a funny noise like a stifled laugh. "And I'm only here for two weeks and not only a storm comes, but a damned hurricane. Go figure. Ever since I heard it was coming, I couldn't stand every second that ticked down to its arrival. I know it's not a very strong hurricane, but it didn't matter to me. It could have been just a simple thunderstorm or Katrina all over again; it didn't matter. My dad isn't here and here I am, in the basement…all alone." Jason let his head fall. "I don't want to be alone."

Rogue squeezed her hand tighter around Jason. "You ain't alone, Jason."

That was too much for Jason; tears streamed down his face and his throat emitted sobs as he let all the bottled up emotions inside of him go at that reassurance. Rogue picked up the blanket and put it around Jason, who didn't move in response. Rogue sat closer to Jason, and almost at once, Jason leaned against Rogue. Rogue's mind froze. This was the closest someone ever came to her ever since her powers manifested, and she had no idea what to do. Granted, she knew she couldn't touch Jason with her bare skin for obvious reasons, but it seemed Jason had forgotten about that and was so desperate for comfort that he reached out to the "untouchable."

That touched Rogue deep down. She leaned in carefully, the blanket ever between her and Jason. As she did, she felt that same melancholy feeling that came along when she just wanted to get close to someone without having to worry about draining him. She mentally shoved it aside as Jason's tears dissolved into quiet sighs. They both had hopes for the future: Jason hoped to find someone he could find someone to share his burdens with, and Rogue hoped that one day she could find a way to be with someone and never fear for hurting him. But for now, they just had to weather the current circumstances.

Suddenly, the lights went out completely, causing both of them to gasp. A few breathless seconds passed before Jason finally sighed. "I really hate storms."

"I'm really beginning to hate them too," Rogue said. "This reminds me of when I went through Katrina."

Despite being unable to see, Jason looked towards Rogue. "You lived through Katrina?"

"Yep. That wasn't fun."

"Were you in New Orleans?"

"Nah, I came from Caldecott, Mississippi, not too far from Jackson. Sure, we didn't get hammered like New Orleans or Biloxi, but it was pretty damn scary."

"I bet. Were you at home."

"Yep, just me and Irene."

"Irene?"

"Yeah, my guardian. I never knew my mom and dad. Irene never pretended to be my real mom…but she was good as one."

Jason blinked in the darkness. "I never knew."

"It's all right, it wasn't important."

"Well, it's not just that. I'm adopted, myself, you know."

"Really?"

"Yeah, and I never knew my real parents either. My parents told me I was adopted as a very young baby, six weeks old if I remember right." Despite no one could see it, Jason smiled. "What are the odds? Two 'orphan' mutants in the basement, having survived storms and now hiding from one? If I wasn't too scared by the storm, I'd laugh."

Rogue managed to smile herself. "Yeah, it is pretty crazy."

"Well, it's like Scott told me a week ago: crazy is the norm around here."

"Yeah, I guess it is."

"So…" Jason began. "What should we do now?"

"I don't know…"

Jason didn't say anything for a little bit, when an idea came to him. "What was Irene like? I mean, as a mother?"

Rogue considered the question briefly, and then began to describe Irene while Jason listened interestedly. Neither of them realized that bonds of a new friendship were now forming between them. Despite the raging storm outside, something beautiful was now blooming, safe from the rage of nature.

* * *

><p>"The flames grew hotter and hotter and hotter! He ran as fast as he could from them, turning left and right when he could…until there was nowhere left to run."<p>

Sam held a flashlight to his face, illuminating the features of his face in an eerie light as he retold a terrifying story of a man who could not escape a raging fire. He was one of several forming a ring in the lounge room, combating the raging storm with ghost stories, now that the storm had knocked out power, ruining the movie night. Everyone else in the ring was captivated by the story and barely blinked in the darkness.

"He tried to claw his way out of the cabin, but it was too late. The fire claimed him, and his screams seemed to split the sky as the fires turned him to ashes. The town didn't care; the stranger was gone from them and they returned to life, but it was not the end of the stranger. One night, in the fireplace of the mayor's house, he was tending to the fire when the face of the stranger rose from the ashes, flickering like the flames that burned him. He cried out in a raspy voice, 'Vengeance,' and then the fireplace exploded. The mayor burned to death, and the house burned down around him. One by one, each of the townsfolk saw the face of the stranger in their fireplaces or campfires, and then died as the stranger burned them to death.

"The town was burned to ashes, and was never rebuilt in fear of seeing the stranger in the flames. But he too was gone, just like the town he took with him to hell. They say the ashes are still there to this day, and that no one camps anywhere within sight of the ashes, because if they do, they will see the face of the stranger in the flames. And when they do, they will burn and die…just like the town that killed him. But they also say at night, the ashes still burn like the fire that killed the stranger. In those flames, the stranger walks back and forth, wanting more souls to drag to hell. If he sees you, you…are…dead…"

The group shivered as Sam finished his story. Kitty broke out with a smile. "This was like the best idea ever!"

"Who said you needed a campfire to tell ghost stories?" Bobby said.

"Man, that last one was so scary, I think my fur is still standing up on end!" Kurt cut in.

"So…" Tabitha said. "Who's next?"

No one stepped forward, as it were, to share the next terrifying tale for the party.

Tabitha pressed on. "Oh, I'm going to have to pick someone, am I? Let's see…"

"Where is everybody?" said a voice from the darkness.

Everyone in the circle jumped in their seats, startled at hearing the voice. Flashlights flicked on and pointed whence the voice came, revealing the blinking forms of Rogue and Jason, freshly returned from the basement after clambering down halls and up stairwells. Despite having a flashlight, the journey up was hampered by Jason's insistence he bring a blanket up with them.

Jason covered his eyes with a part of the blanket. "Agh, can't you point those somewhere else?"

"It's just us!" Rogue exclaimed. As the lights lowered from their eyes, Rogue looked at everyone. "What the hell are you doing?"

"Ghost stories," Bobby said.

Jason lowered the blanket from his eyes. "I see it's been effective." Jason looked around at the flashlight-illuminated crowd, trying to ignore the rumbling outside. Everyone merely stared wordlessly at Jason, but Jason could read the damage he had wrought with his actions in the last few days. He sighed, and then shared, "Yeah, I know what you guys are thinking…and you're right. I've been an absolute jerk the last couple days." Jason paused briefly; so far so good. "You guys just have to understand that storms and I don't get along very well, and that the thought of a party…" Jason pursed his lips, as if the thought of a hurricane party still reviled him. "…just didn't sit well with me because of what happened to me. But…that doesn't excuse anything. I should have not lashed out at you guys like I have. You guys were just trying to have some fun while I was being a triple-A jerk."

Kurt decided to interrupt. "Well, I would say triple-A. Double-A, maybe…"

Jason smiled, accepting the friendly jab. "Thanks, Kurt." Then he sobered up. "Anyway, what I'm trying to get at is…I'm sorry." Jason's eyes wondered, and then locked on to Piotr, who had been sitting quietly in the group. Jason's gaze didn't break as he continued, "I know that doesn't mean a lot, but I hope I can make it up to you guys somehow."

The others looked at each other. Piotr looked down slightly, breaking the gaze he shared with Jason. Jason was at once disheartened and looked down himself; he had been afraid of this. His rage had alienated the closest person he could call a friend here.

"I forgive you."

Jason's head snapped up. That was Piotr's voice. His gaze locked on Piotr again and he saw Piotr smiling weakly at him. His thoughts were interrupted as he noticed others nodding. Bobby himself said. "It's like I always tell you guys; you just need to chill."

Everyone moaned, including Jason. "You did _not_ just make a pun, Bobby…" he groaned.

Bobby was oblivious. "What?"

Jean smiled. "Looks like we all forgive you, Jason."

Now it was Jason's turn to manage a weak smile. Suddenly, his free arm got wrapped around by two other arms. Jason turned to see Tabitha had grabbed his arm and had a conspiratorial look on her face. "And I think I have the perfect way for him to make it up:"

Jason's eyes widened slightly.

"_You're_ going to tell us the next ghost story."

Jason's mind balked. Kurt, however, knew exactly what to say. "All those in favor?"

Many hands in the group shot up.

"Motion carried!"

"Thanks a lot, guys," Jason quipped.

Tabitha dragged Jason top sit down between her and Piotr. "Better have a good one, cutie."

Jason blushed slightly as his mind raced for a story. He hadn't heard a lot of ghost stories himself, and his father wasn't one to tell ghost stories…when his mind suddenly remembered a legend that his father did share once. Jason smiled a toothy grin. "I think I do."

Everybody tuned in instantly, as Jason nestled himself down. "This was a legend my dad told me a long time ago when we walked by a cemetery. Sam, you're from Texas, right?"

Sam nodded.

"You might have heard this then." Jason breathed in, took his flashlight and flicked it on under his chin, illuminating his face in a nightmarish look. He began to narrate, "They say there are truths in every legend, and in every truth there is the seed of a new legend. Whichever this is will be up to you. The West is full of legends, but few can measure up to the man who outran the Devil himself.

"Long before the West was settled, there was a lawman by the name of Carter Slade, the sheriff of San Venganza. Good town, good people; a picturesque town of the unsettled West. One day, a stranger came to the town. At first, nothing changed, but then Slade noticed an increase of unrest in the town. He tried to keep the peace, but it kept getting worse.

"Then one morning, he woke up to find that the entire town had torn itself apart. Every man, woman and child was killed. There was no one left. When authorities from outside town came, they arrested Slade in connection to the destruction of the town, even though he was innocent. He was sentenced to death by hanging.

"As he waited for his unjust death, he got a visitor in the wee hours of the morning. It was the stranger that came to the town before it died. Slade accused the stranger of destroying the town. Everything was fine until the stranger show up, he said. The stranger didn't flinch. He merely said that everyone in the town was getting what it wanted, and nothing more. He made deals with them so they could get what they always wanted. However that affected the rest of the town was inconsequential. He said they asked for a deal, and he gave them what they wanted in exchange for something he wanted.

"As Slade seethed, the stranger then offered Slade a deal. 'You are innocent in this,' he said. 'but you are about to die. It doesn't have to be that way. I offer you a deal: I secure your release, and one day I will request you do one small thing for me.' The stranger whipped out a rusty parchment. 'All you have to do is sign.'

"Slade hated the stranger for ruining his life, but Slade was also a desperate man. He did not want to die, and his life was ruined anyway. What would it matter now if he went along with this man? So, he decided to take the deal. When he reached for the pen, it cut his thumb, and a single drop of blood oozed out and fell on the parchment. The stranger smiled and said, 'That will do just fine.' And then disappeared into the night.

"Morning came and Slade found out he was to be released. And thus he went, and disappeared for years. What did he do? He lived in destitution. He lived, but the faces of the people of San Venganza haunted him every night. For years, the faces haunted him until he was a shell of the man he was before. He may have escaped an unjust death, but it didn't take him long to consider that death was far more acceptable than this living hell. He tried to kill himself a couple of times, but found he could not.

"Then, one night, the stranger returned out of the campfire. The time had come for Slade to fulfill his side of the bargain. 'It has taken a long time,' said the stranger. 'but the time to collect is now. You will take up the mantle as my rider, and round up the condemned souls. Return to San Venganza, and bind the festering souls into this parchment, then deliver it to me. When you return it to me, I shall release you of your curse and you will never see me again.

"Then, the stranger disappeared. At once, Slade felt like his insides burst into flame, and it spread into his head, his hands, his feet, everything. His face exploded into flame, burning hotter than the campfire in front of him. His flesh burned away, leaving nothing but the bone and sinew that held him together. All that was left was Carter Slade was his burning skeleton. He climbed onto his horse and rode off into the night as a new being: the Ghost Rider.

"Now the thing about the Ghost Rider is that he is a spirit of vengeance, nothing but fury and rage, seeking to burn the blood-stained souls of the wicked. They say his very gaze could set a man's soul on fire, and that those souls that were burned by the Rider would forever relive the pain they forced upon the innocents they destroyed…just like what happened to Carter Slade. If the Ghost Rider looks at you, pray to God he doesn't see a single drop of blood on your soul.

"The Rider rode into the ruins of San Venganza, and when he stepped in, it was like hell itself opened up to him and the souls of his old town came to him, screeching like banshees. Hearing that sound would have shattered anyone's mind…but not the mind of the Rider. He was here to deliver these souls to hell, and no screams of mercy would stop him now. His whip could catch and seer any soul and bind it away in that one cursed parchment. One by one, he caught them all up, until the entire town was bound into the Contract of San Venganza, one hundred greedy and festering souls.

"And so the Rider left the town deserted, and rode off to meet the stranger. On the way, he could feel the souls in the parchment reach out and claw at his own torching soul. These people were his townsfolk, his responsibility to protect, and he had already failed them once. Now, he was about to hand them over to the stranger, whom he was convinced to be Satan, or someone just as bad. Yet he rode on, the Rider had to finish his deal with the Devil.

"When the Rider arrived at the campfire he had abandoned, the stranger was waiting for him. In the Rider's eyes, the stranger was looked different: evil, cursed…and jealous. The Rider saw who the stranger was now, a cursed being, but not by the Devil…but by God. Whatever remained of Slade's heart screamed at him not to hand over the contract. One-hundred souls: that was power enough to open the gates of hell on the planet and establish the reign of the Devil on God's creation once and for all.

"The stranger held up and open hand, but remained silent. Words were redundant as the silent demand passed well enough between the stranger and the Rider. The Rider merely stared at him momentarily. The stranger didn't move, but he grew impatient. The Rider then tipped his hat at the stranger. Suddenly, the campfire exploded, blinding the stranger. When the flames died down, the Rider was nowhere to be seen.

"The Rider betrayed the Devil, and outran him. They say the very earth quaked as the Devil screamed in rage at being betrayed by his own creation. Ever since that day, the Rider and the stranger has never been seen walking the Earth, but people know all too well that the Devil will not rest until he gets his hands on the Contract of San Venganza. As for the Rider, some people think he disappeared in the flames in the campfire. Other say he rode off into the night again, forever the Ghost Rider until the day he died. Some say he's still out there, burning the souls of the wicked with his very gaze. Even more say the spirit of the Rider looms over the graveyards like he did at San Venganza. But what they all say is the same: Carter Slade, the Ghost Rider, was never seen again, and that the ruins of San Venganza will forever stand as a reminder why one should never parlay with the Devil, because you will always lose."

Jason finished his story by turning off the flashlight under his chin and looked around at the silent group. No one said anything for a good long time; all were too mystified at hearing the legend. Finally, Kurt spoke up, "I think we have a winner."

"I'll say," Kitty said. "That was like totally freaky."

Jason smiled. "Freaked me out too as a kid. I never looked at graveyards the same way again."

"I don't think I'll ever look at them the same ever again either," Bobby said, shivering.

"You're _shivering_, Bobby?" Jason said. "Must be approaching absolute zero."

There was a shared laugh at that, and Tabitha squeezed Jason's arm. "He's funny again! Nothing like a good ol' scary story to turn someone around, right cutie?"

Jason only smiled and blushed.

* * *

><p><em>Some time later…<em>

Jason smoothed out the blankets and pillows on the floor of the storage room he had taken refuge in earlier. Despite finally relaxing with the guys, he still could not stay upstairs very long, and when a particularly close thunderclap rattled everyone, he decided to head back downstairs and turn in for the night in the peace and quiet that the underground promised.

It had to be closing in on midnight now, and the others were likely turning in for the night themselves. Shame he would have to spend it alone in this room, but it beat having to deal with the constant rumbling going on outside that threatened to give him a panic attack.

Just as he was about to lie down and hope to fall asleep, a faint knock broke the silence. Startled, Jason called out, "Who's there?"

"It's me," said a voice.

Jason relaxed. It was Piotr. "Peter? What are you doing down here?"

"I was worried…" came in the voice. "Can I come in?"

"The door's unlocked."

The door slid open, letting in the large frame of Piotr Rasputin, who seemed to be carrying a large load in his arms. Jason turned on the flashlight and aimed it at Piotr, revealing that the load was in fact his own pillows and blankets. "Peter?" Jason asked.

Piotr looked down at the pillows and blankets in his arms. "I…I grew concerned. I…I asked Rogue where you were staying…and…I thought I would…well…keep you company…"

Jason merely stared, touched. Piotr had sacrificed sleeping comfortably on a bed so that he could sleep on the floor to make sure Jason would not have to sleep alone in his own fear. Slowly, a smile broke across his face as he said, "Peter, you didn't have to do that."

Piotr nodded. "I-I know. I just…I did not think you wanted to be alone."

Jason allowed the rest of the smile to do its magic. "Peter, how did you know?"

Piotr dropped his beddings on the floor. "I just knew. I had been alone myself for so long, even in a room full of people. I did not want you to feel that…and I thought that you would not want that either."

Jason closed his eyes. "Alone in a room full of people, huh? I didn't know you were such a poet."

Piotr began to make the makeshift bed on the floor, not too far away from Jason, when he had to stop because he was blushing too much. "It feels just like that, comrade."

Jason opened his eyes, his mind remembering the previous days when he did isolate himself from the others at the Institute. "You're right. It feels just like that. Thanks, Peter, and I truly am sorry for biting you head off a couple days ago."

"All is forgiven, Jason," Piotr replied, then resumed making the bed, as it were. "That was disturbing story you told tonight."

Jason grinned. "Isn't it? When I was a kid, I thought I'd get nightmares from it. I got lucky, I guess."

"You said at beginning that every legend has truth in it, _da_?"

"That's right."

"What do you think is truth in that legend?"

Jason paused to think. "I like to think that there really was a town called San Venganza, somewhere in the desert, falling into dust, and that in reality, the townsfolk just tore each other apart in some brutal massacre. But…something tells me that there may be more truth to it than that."

Piotr lied down on the blankets. "Do you think a Ghost Rider still exists?"

"I hope not…" Jason said, lying down himself. "But hell, we're mutants with extraordinary abilities, so I guess I shouldn't be surprised. However, if there is one, I hope I never run into him. I'd piss myself."

"I do not think he would hurt you, Jason. You said he burns souls of the wicked."

"Yeah…" Jason said. "But I don't think that's much comfort if I run into someone made of a fiery skeleton. I'd run right there and then."

"I might too," Piotr said. "Good night, Jason."

"Good night, Peter." Jason rolled onto his side, feeling confident that he could now sleep peacefully tonight, even if he just told one of the scariest stories he ever heard in his life. After all, it was just a story.

* * *

><p><em>Somewhere in the Southwest<em>

"Wallet, jewelry, FAST!"

A punk kid held a hysterical woman at knifepoint in a deserted alley, desperate for anything valuable she possessed. However, the woman was too panicked to comply. "Please, I don't want to die!" she bawled.

"Shut the fuck up, and give me your fucking money!"

"I have two kids at home!"

"Fuck you! Give me your purse or I'll cut you up!"

This back-and-forth went on briefly, when suddenly, a hellish roar shook the street beneath their feet. Both froze at that terrible sound, when suddenly a burning chain flew out of the darkness, wrapping itself around the feet of the knife-wielding punk. The thief fell as he was dragged away from the woman, who stared transfixed as her eyes followed the length of the chain to its bearer, and promptly fainted.

In the alleyway was the figure of a man, but his head was a flaming skull, eye-sockets blacker than the night and his mouth forever etched in a hellish grin. He was dressed in leather, his greaves and the tops of his shoulders embedded in spikes that added to his devilish appearance, every inch a literal hell's angel.

"_**Guilty!"**_ proclaimed the leather-bound devil in a deep, ghoulish voice. The hellish figure reached down and pulled up the punk and pinned him against the wall. The punk's eyes bulged out of his head as his eyes met the ghoul's. _**"Look into my eyes…"**_

The punk worked up the nerve to stab the ghoul in the arm, and so he did. The ghoul didn't flinch, and merely looked the closest thing to bemused that he could ever be. The knife promptly melted away and the ghoul locked his gaze into the punk's fear-stricken eyes.

"_**Your soul is stained by the blood of the innocent!" **_The ghoul's eye-sockets burst into flame. _**"FEEL THEIR PAIN!"**_

The punk screamed as hellish images filled his head, burning him inside out. He recognized each and every one of them: people he killed after he was done with them. Each one screamed like banshees in his ears. He couldn't stop his ears, or close his eyes. Each of the people he killed were back and were burning him alive! His scream pierced the night.

And then it was over. He lay on the ground, his mind deafened by the noise and images he experienced, freshly burning. The last thing he heard that night was the hellish laughter and the revving of a motorcycle. He was now alone with his nightmares, and at once he was sorry…so incredibly sorry.

Justice has now been served.

* * *

><p><em>I am so terrible sorry for the delay! For the last several weeks, I've been down for the count with the worst flucold bug combo I've ever had. I couldn't concentrate on writing at all. However, I'm done with it now, and even left you a small bonus with the cameo appearance of the Ghost Rider. Will he return again in this work or future works? Only time will tell. Hell hath no fury then a burning skeleton on a motorcycle, after all._

_Anyway, here's the next preview for __Chapter 4: Weight Problem__._

"_There's a new big man on campus…literally. The massive Fred Dukes has come to the school, and is already causing problems. When he runs into Jean Grey, things only escalate and now the X-Men now have a weight problem in a matter of speaking. How will they take care of the Blob? Find out next time!"_


	5. Chapter 4: Weight Problem

**CHAPTER 4:**** Weight Problem**

* * *

><p><em>Temple, Texas – Tuesday, September 6<em>_th__, 2011; 7:12 PM_

"You know, I've never been to the State Fair, even back in my home state, Oklahoma," Jason voiced. "I certainly wasn't expecting this."

Logan only grunted in acknowledgement. Both he and the new recruit, Jason, came here to witness what might be their newest recruit, providing they were successful. The trouble was finding him at the moment. The latest Cerebro reports stated he was attending the Central Texas State Fair, which made things a bit messy. Tens of thousands attended the State Fair each year, and they were looking for one in a sea of faces. All they had was a name: Fred Dukes. Finding the needle in a haystack seemed more likely.

At this moment, they were seated high in the bleachers, watching the monster truck rally at the fair proceed. Jason didn't seem terribly worried about their odds of finding their target, and seemed more enamored at the monster truck rally. "Is there any other reason they make monster trucks besides crushing cars pretentiously? I would think the original function of the monster truck involved something a bit more constructive, in a manner of speaking."

"Pipe down, Scarface, and keep an eye out for Dukes. I don't want to go back to the Professor and tell him we lost a recruit because you were analyzing fancy trucks."

"Sorry, Logan," Jason shifted in his seat. "But we've been here for hours now, and haven't even seen anybody that fits the description, and I would think he wouldn't be hard to miss with _his_ dossier."

"And we'll wait out here until we find him," Logan growled. "Now pipe down!"

"Yes, Logan."

Jason looked out among the crowd, while Logan did the same. Jason had basically given voice to the elder's own thoughts; he knew it was going to be hard. It would have been much easier if he had gotten a whiff of this Fred Dukes, but there was no way that was going to happen.

As they looked, the announcer in the booth kept updating the crowd on the exhibition. "Ladies and gentlemen, give a round of applause to the Lady of Monster Trucks, Shirley Ray!"

The crowd watched as the driver of the massive red monster truck fired up, rolling over row upon row of cars, even doing wheelies over them and all other kinds of stunts and jumps. It was truly quite the show, and Jason kept finding himself watching it rather than looking for the real reason they were here.

A few minutes later, the Lady of Monster Trucks was done, and made her way out gloriously with a loud revving of her truck. "And now, ladies and gentlemen, the main attraction of the evening. Give a resounding cheer for the world's strongest teenager, Fred 'The Blob' Dukes!"

Jason and Logan tuned in instantly, eyes scanning the field. At once, they found a massive boy, sporting a short blonde mohawk, standing quietly between two monster trucks facing away from each other. Jason's eyes nearly fell out of his head. "Good grief, he really _is_ huge."

Logan remained silent, and watched as Fred grabbed two industrial chains; each one chained to the monster trucks, and wrapped them around his wrists and held on. Jason suddenly swallowed as he saw what was coming next.

"All right, Dukes, show us what you can do!" said the announcer.

Fred breathed deeply as the monster trucks roared to life. Everyone in the stands held their breath as nothing happened momentarily. Then, a signal: a simple nod from Fred provoked the monster trucks to haul away.

The chains quickly went taut, but Dukes held on. Anyone else would have been ripped apart trying to hold back such horsepower. But the Blob was not anyone else; he merely gritted his teeth and groaned as the trucks hauled away, but they could not advance. It was like they were tied to a mountain, unmovable. The trucks accelerated, but all this accomplished was going into wheelies. Dukes hung on.

The crowd was mesmerized at this amazing show of strength and fortitude; no one could believe their eyes.

Suddenly, Fred jumped straight up, pulling as he went. The monster trucks were pulled straight backwards as if Fred hauled toys instead of trucks. There was a crash as the trucks collided, and Fred landed right on them, one foot in each of the beds. His weight crushed the rear tires, causing them to pop and deflate, but he stood there unabashed. He was victorious.

The crowd instantly stood up and cheered. Jason was shocked. "I don't freaking believe it!"

Logan sat still. That had to be their boy.

Fred soaked up the glory like a sponge, and bowed. The fates were cruel that night, and Fred failed to account for his weight shifting. Flailing about, he promptly fell out of the trucks and on his face into the dirt. Like vinegar to baking soda, the crowd went from cheering to jeering.

Jason sat back down. "Damn it…" he sighed.

Logan only narrowed his eyes. It seemed they were the only ones here not amused, aside from Fred that is. Fred picked himself up, barely containing his rage, and sulked out of the arena.

Jason looked at Logan, who said. "Go wait by the X-Van, Scarface. I get the feeling he's going to need a one-on-one, and you'll just make a crowd."

Jason nodded. "You're the boss." Jason picked himself up from the bleachers. "Good luck."

Logan nodded, before picking himself up and descending the stairs to follow the rejected performer.

* * *

><p>Fred Dukes was furious, and he took it out the only way he knew how: tear apart anything he could get his large hands around. The table, chairs, even lockers, if he could grab it, he threw it. The walls were littered with fist-sized holes, but he showed no signs of slowing. Every punch just fueled his fury, punctuated with cries of rage…and pain. He barely felt pain physically, but emotional pain was a very real thing to him. He had always been large, extremely large at that. As is so often the case, such obesity was the draw of attention of bullies everywhere.<p>

Like most, he spent time crying alone, but other times, he fought back. As it turned out, his body mass enabled him to pack quite a punch, sometimes enough to break a few ribs accidentally. That was when he first got the inkling he really was different…after he eluded police by running away from home after putting one boy in the hospital. Ever since then, he ducked in and out of various places, only to end up performing strength feats around the state to mixed success. Despite being literally the strongest teenager in the state—if not the world—his "stature" was still the lightning rod for every slur ever to be uttered by the tongues of men, and that likely would not change. His skin was thick, his strength unparalleled by any man on Earth…yet the words still hurt.

He didn't get it. He was bigger—by far—and tougher than any of them, and they were still getting to him…by laughter! What he wouldn't give for a little alone time with each and every one of those skinheads and give them a right jab right into the—

"Something bothering you?" said a voice behind him.

Fred looked over his shoulder to see the slender form of a woman, every inch a schoolteacher or a principal down to the glasses. Frowning, he growled, "You betcha there is:" Then followed up loudly, "These small town hicks!" He allowed himself to turn himself around to better see the woman, framed and backlit in the doorway. "And you'd better get out of the way, because I'm ditching this stupid place for _good_!"

The woman merely smiled. "That can be arranged, Mr. Dukes." The woman stepped forward as if she owned the place. "In fact, I represent an organization where someone of your talents would be _truly_ appreciated."

Fred scowled. "Listen, lady, if you are with the circus, forget about it!" Fred shoved a fat finger close into the woman's face.

The woman didn't flinch, but only smiled bigger. "Oh no, Mr. Dukes. I'm not thinking of using you for entertainment for the inept; what I have in mind is far more…" She made a look as if trying to come up with the perfect word to describe her offer. "…practical. Care to hear more?"

Fred didn't reply right away. He had been made a lot of offers to showcase his strength—and the circus was certainly responsible for a majority of them—but this offer was different, and he didn't even know how. Well, only one way to find out. Relaxing, he moved towards the door. "Sure, why the hell not?"

* * *

><p>Jason drained the soda he brought with him from the stands while he waited outside the van, all the while admiring the late summer evening Texas was famous for. It was dry and hot, but that's how he loved it. The summers in New York were muggy, and he found it sweltering. Despite the fact it was hotter here in Texas, it just felt nicer and relaxing. The slightest breath of wind was amazing in such dry weather, and he cherished it.<p>

He didn't know how much he missed rural Oklahoma until he came back to the region. Sure, this was Texas, but the weather was close enough. As soon as he stepped off the X-Jet and took a whiff of the dusty Texas air, homesickness came thudding at his door. What was worse was that he knew that home was probably only a few hours' drive away by car.

He fingered the Amulet of Agamotto around his neck. He was entrusted with it by Dr. Strange to use as a means of transportation from the Institute to the Sanctum Santorum in Greenwich, England, but whenever he got homesick, he was tempted to use it to teleport to home. Every time he was tempted, however, he would remember Dr. Strange's stern look while he said in his mind: _"__if you do choose to teleport yourself to anywhere else, I will know. The Eye of Agamotto will see you every time."_ That had kept his temptations in check, but he always wondered what the harm was in teleporting to see his family. Surely, there was no harm in that.

He looked up from the deep blue stone hanging from his neck to see the familiar figure of Logan come up his direction…alone. Jason knew something was wrong instantly. As soon as Logan was close enough, Jason ventured, "What happened?"

Logan didn't say anything, but his eyes spoke volumes.

_He walked down the hallways, following the scent of Fred Dukes while his eyes combed the place. In his mind, he rehearsed how he was going to approach this boy. He wasn't much of a recruiter, but if he could at least plant the seeds in someone as strong as Colossus, who knows?_

_In one hallway, one door was open and it was rank with the scent of the boy. When he reached the door, he looked inside to see if it was occupied…_

…_and got the shock of his life. Leaning against the wall was the figure of a woman, who noticed Logan quickly. As soon as she did, she smiled deeply, and then her eyes changed to a venom-yellow color. Right there and then, Fred closed the door on his face, never seeing Logan there. _

Logan growled. "Mystique was there kid; she beat us there."

Now it was Jason's turn to have the shock of his life. "Mystique? The changeling I saw on the rooftop of the hospital that night?"

"You got it, bub."

Jason had to breathe a couple of times. He met a lot of enemies that night, but few came close to scaring him as Mystique, especially after seeing her wear the face of his own father. "What's she doing here?"

"Same reason we are, Scarface."

Now, Jason scowled. "Magneto." Almost instinctively, Jason scanned the skies. "You don't think he's around, do you?"

"Wouldn't count on it. I would have smelled him otherwise…or else be twisted in an uncompromising position."

Jason didn't even want to think about the latter. It was one of the few times adamantium-layered bones were disadvantageous to the Wolverine. "So, what do we do now?"

"We go home," Logan said. "There's nothing else we can do."

Jason sighed. _"So much for a happy ending to my first recruitment mission."_

* * *

><p><em>Later that night, Xavier Institute for Gifted Children<em>

"So, he has now joined the Brotherhood…" Professor Xavier said resignedly.

"Wouldn't doubt it, Chuck," Logan said, leaning against the fireplace mantle.

Jason shifted in the chair. "I don't get it. How did Mystique get there before we do?"

"Mystique is one of those most resourceful mutants in existence, Jason," the Professor explained. "And it is born from years of experience. Pair it with Magneto's own resourcefulness and they could hunt down any new mutant in the world."

Jason's eyes were wide with amazed horror. "Even with you and Cerebro?"

"I fear so."

Jason breathed. "And to think I was freaked out by Mystique before…"

"Mystique is very manipulative, yes, but just like everyone you run into, Jason, she is human."

"Yeah, I know…" Jason stood up. "It's just that whenever I remember her, I remember when she wore the face of my Dad. Can I go now?"

The Professor nodded. "Yes, you are free to go now."

Jason nodded in return and left the study. Logan watched him go, and when the door was shut, he said a low voice. "You reckon we should tell him?"

"No, Logan," the Professor replied. "Jason is still recovering from the hurricane, and such a revelation will only rattle him further. We need to exercise caution when revealing things to Jason."

Logan scowled. "He's a tough kid, Chuck, and you know he will find out sooner or later."

"He's not ready for that kind of truth. If he suddenly realized how close Mystique has been to him for the past few weeks, who knows how that would affect him?"

"One thing I can tell you is that it's better to know your enemy is close, Chuck."

"Yes, and I do agree, Logan." The Professor leaned back in the wheelchair. "But hearing how Jason describes remembering his first encounter with Mystique, perhaps—for now—Jason should remain blissfully unaware."

Logan thought about what the Professor said. He couldn't help but agree that Jason's reaction to Mystique on the rooftop had left a negative effect on the boy. While not as scarring as the tornado had been, Jason was still on the road to recovery when Mystique and Magneto appeared to Jason. The events that transpired that night would forever be remembered by all who were there. Logan finally growled, "Fine, I'll play along, but don't expect me to be happy about it."

"I would never ask you to change your mind on anything, Logan;" the Professor calmly returned. "I only ask you to understand."

Logan remained silent, for there was nothing that needed to be said.

* * *

><p><em>Bayville High School – Wednesday, September 7<em>_th__, 2011_

"And this will be your school schedule for the rest of the year," Ms. Darkhölme said, handing a single sheet of paper to Fred, who was sitting rather timidly in the chair—miraculously supporting him—across from Ms. Darkhölme. "Any questions, Mr. Dukes?"

Fred looked at the piece of paper, and replied, "I don't know if I can do school again."

"Now you won't have any trouble here." Ms. Darkhölme's eyes narrowed ever so slightly as she smiled. "As the principle, I can make sure of it. You are dismissed, Mr. Dukes."

Wordlessly, Fred left the office, walking slowly as he tried to decipher the piece of paper he was handed. He mumbled through the text slowly, but he was having no success in trying to find out where to go. "Man, this is complicated!" he blurted out finally. Looking up, he saw a blond passerby wearing a school letterman jacket. "Hey, you!" He reached out to the jock, grabbing him and pulling him aside, then shoving the paper into his face. "Where am I supposed to be?"

Duncan Matthews, star quarterback of the Bayville Hawks, had been minding his own business when he found himself in the clutches of the biggest man he had ever seen. Giving Fred one quick look, he broke out in a grin and said, "Try a side show," then broke out laughing.

Fred immediately saw red. "Don't laugh at me!" he yelled, throwing Duncan to the ground. Before Duncan could recover, Fred grabbed a set of lockers nearby and lifted them off the ground as if they were made of cardboard. His face redder than a beet, he lifted the lockers over his head and glared down at Duncan, who was so surprised at what he was seeing he didn't know what to do. "I'll teach you to not laugh at me!"

Duncan clambered away from Fred, but Fred wasn't so easily deterred. Ever since he found out why he was so big and so strong, he wasn't going to take crap from anyone ever again, and he would show everyone who tried. This will show that cocky jock never to mess with the Blob!

"Are you new here?"

That casual question stopped both Fred and Duncan in their respective tracks. Both looked to see a beautiful red-haired woman, probably around the same height Duncan was. Fred froze in his tracks, and blushed in the sight of this wonder of nature. Everything about her was perfect. He then remembered that he was still holding the lockers above his head. Chuckling sheepishly, he lowered the lockers from over his head. "Uh, yeah, I am."

The woman didn't appear to notice the lockers. "Hi, I'm Jean Grey."

Fred placed the lockers back roughly where he pulled them from. "Uh…hi. I'm Fred."

Duncan was wise enough to crawl away quietly as Jean distracted the hot-headed heavyweight enough to let him escape.

Jean appeared not to notice Duncan either. "Well, welcome to Bayville High. I guess I should apologize for Duncan."

"Duncan?" Fred asked, just as the lockers crashed against the wall as they fell from their own weight.

"Oh, the guy on the floor just a little bit ago. He can be a real idiot sometimes. I guess that's what happens when you play football and take a few blows to the head. So, where did you come from? Do you have friends here?"

Fred brushed off his hands on his overalls. "No, I never really had any friends."

"Well, you'll make some soon enough," Jean said assuringly, and then espied the paper Fred had dropped when he lost his temper. "Hey, did you need help figuring this out?"

Fred looked down at the paper. "Oh, uh, yes, please!"

Jean picked up the paper and studied. "Let's see…your first class is Algebra I…and…oh, it's just around the corner over there!" Jean pointed to a nearby perpendicular hallway.

Fred looked where Jean was pointing, looking relieved. "Thanks!"

Jean smiled, handing back the paper back to Fred. "Don't mention it. The first day is always the hardest. Anyway, I need to get to class. See you around, Fred!" Jean walked off down a different hallway, waving as she went.

Fred didn't move. As far as he could remember, that was the first time someone was ever that nice to him, aside from that lady he met last night at the fair. Beyond that, she was beautiful. What a swell woman! Fred unconsciously wrinkled up the schedule in his massive hands. "Yeah, you will…" he said smiling big.

* * *

><p>Jason bit his lip in thought as he eyed the blackboard at the back of the classroom. Scribbled thereon was a reminder for the auditions for the school musical tomorrow night. Ever since he heard about them in the prior week, he'd been searching and rehearsing different songs to find one that he hoped would work. What also bugged him was that the library of sheet music was a bit thinner for baritones than he expected. At least he had help.<p>

"So, you ready for tomorrow night, Jason?" his classmate, Jean-Paul, leaned in to whisper.

"As ready as I'll ever be," Jason whispered back. "I looked into that one guy you tool me about: Cohan. I tried a few songs and a lot of them got out of my vocal range, except one."

"Let me guess: 'Give My Regards to Broadway.'"

"What are you, psychic?"

"No, I just know that one is the easiest one."

"Thanks a lot."

"All right, class, please pay attention," said Mr. Young, the drama teacher. "Now I'm sure you have been preparing for auditions tomorrow night, which means I expect all of you have chosen a music piece to perform that night. A separate monologue will be an added bonus, but is not required."

"Which is as good as required with Mr. Young," Jean-Paul whispered.

"_Damn it,"_ Jason cursed mentally, then added aloud, "I hope I can use one of my old ones…"

Mr. Young continued. "Even with that, I still have an assignment for all of you to do next week. This one requires you and your partner to perform a dialogue I will assign you. Since some of you have yet to choose partners, I'll pair you up myself." He walked around the room, passing around bound scripts. "Now, Taryn, you and Jean-Paul will be performing Laura and Jim from _The Glass Menagerie_." Mr. Young continued on. "That just leaves you…" he placed a script on Jason's desk. "…and you." He then placed a script on Rogue's desk. "You two will be performing from Shakespeare's Henry V. I've marked the scene in your scripts."

"Odds are it's a romantic scene…" Jean-Paul whispered.

Jason pursed his lips and gulped.

"Now, all of you best get with your partner and rehearse. You will perform on Tuesday," Mr. Young finished.

Jason twisted in his chair to look at Rogue. "So…you up for this?"

One of Rogue's dark eyebrows shot up. "What's that supposed to mean?"

A muscle in Jason's throat twitched, nearly causing him to squeak. Clearing his throat, he answered. "Uh…I just asked if you were okay with doing a scene from Shakespeare."

Rogue crossed her arms. "I don't remember being asked to do it. It was assigned."

Jason winced. He walked right into that one.

"Now stop being weirdo, ok?" Rogue asked.

"Sorry…"

"Well, look at it this way, Jason. If she doesn't pull through, you can always play both roles yourself. After all, in Shakespeare's time, the women's roles were always played by—"

"Stuff it, Jean-Paul," Jason growled.

* * *

><p><em>Later that day…<em>

Lunch time came all too slowly for the students of Bayville High, but it had finally come and all clambered into line to get some food and have a chance to chat with friends. While the food at the cafeteria was hardly delectable, it was enough to pass…in a manner of speaking. In due process, most of the students had made their way through the line to get today's meal.

At one table, Jason, Scott, Kurt and Piotr were discussing the day's happenings. Kurt started with Chemistry. "You know, I thought I would hate Chemistry, but I'm starting to like it."

"With the puffs you leave behind, Kurt, I wouldn't be surprised. That's a chemical reaction of its own," Jason quipped.

"Hey!" Kurt protested.

"You should talk, Jason," Scott said. "Weren't you the one that blew up Sabretooth's face?"

Jason shrugged. "That wasn't exactly hard. Pretty basic comprehension of chemistry, really."

"How did you do it again?" Piotr asked.

"I just used alchemy to rapidly heat up the water in his body beyond boiling point. Typically, there's a slow transition between water transferring into gaseous form, but when that transition is sped up, there's a violent expansion as the volume that the gas requires is much greater than it requires in liquid form. A sudden expansion is akin to an explosion. Any flash of light involved is just a discharge of energy to satisfy entropy."

Scott didn't seem to react, but Piotr and Kurt looked at each other. "You just blew my mind with that," Kurt said.

Jason snorted weakly. "Hell, transmutations of solid matter are harder than that. What you heard was baby-food chemistry at its finest."

Suddenly, Jason felt a tapping on his shoulder. Looking over his shoulder, he saw Kitty, sitting at an adjacent table with Jean, trying to get his attention. Jason smiled, "I'd love to dance, but I still eating here."

"Like you're such a wise guy!" Kitty said. "Now, tell me. Is that humungous guy over there in line like the one you and Logan went to see last night?"

Jason peered over to the line of students still waiting to get their food. Sure enough, Fred Dukes was in line, getting ready to take up one—or maybe ten—helpings of today's meal. "Yep, that's him. He's quite the mountain mover…" Jason then grinned sheepishly. "…maybe literally." Jason's brow fell. "I didn't expect to see him here so soon, though…"

Piotr's own brow sunk. "I'm pretty strong."

"Damn right you are," Jason said. "Just the same, he held back two monster truck cars chained to his wrists, one in each hand. He just might give you a run for your money."

Piotr looked a little insulted at the prospect of someone being stronger than him.

Kitty didn't appear to notice. "So, Fred, huh? He doesn't seem too bad."

Jean nearby shrugged. "Yeah, he's okay…when he isn't ripping lockers off the wall."

Kitty's eyes bulged. "_He's_ the one who did that? Freaky!"

Jason twisted around again. "Whoa, back up! You mean the ones a short walk from the principal's office?"

"Yep, you saw them too?" Kitty replied.

"Have I?" Jason laughed. "I nearly tripped over them. Peter and I were coming back from Physical Science when we came across them. I didn't even think Fred did it until I saw he was even here."

"Yeah, Duncan said something stupid and Fred was about to let him have it," Jean said. "Thankfully, I was able to distract him enough to stop."

Jason bit his lip in thought. He remembered how Fred quickly fell from adoration to derision in a matter of seconds. That kind of fall would either break a man…or infuriate him. Jason reluctantly hoped for the former…because the latter terrified him.

"So, Jason…"

Kurt's voice had brought Jason back to the table. "What?"

"What's this I hear about you and Rogue having a romantic scene you have to perform?"

"_Jean-Paul has a big mouth,"_ Jason thought ruefully, but then replied aloud. "Yeah, I do. I have to play a Shakespearean scene with someone I can't even touch without killing myself. I have no idea how the heck we're going to pull this off."

"You have got to invite me to the rehearsals."

"Yeah…I'll get right on that," Jason said sarcastically, but then he espied Rogue sitting by herself halfway across the room. He knew Rogue often didn't join them at the table at school, and he often wondered why. Seeing her alone over there stirred pity in his heart, and he wondered if he should go over and at least keep her company. After all, just a few days ago, she herself had gone down to him when he isolated himself from the rest of the Institute during Hurricane Irene's landfall. He would have to return the favor…

He was distracted by a loud noise from the other side of the room. He as well as the rest of the school looked to see that Fred had sat down at an empty table. The chair shattered instantly under his weight, sending him to the floor, while vaulting his overloaded tray of food over his head. All those paying attention ducked at once, but those unfortunate to not pay attention were in for surprise. One such party was Duncan, his pals and a select of the cheerleaders…all in the flight path of the food.

Jason winced as he witnessed the splatter fest of food plaster Duncan and his pals, somehow sparing the cheerleaders. Duncan wiped the sludge off his face and furiously looked to see where it came from, finding a surprised Fred still on the floor, covered with his own food. Duncan saw red. "Big mistake, blob-boy," he growled.

Jason whispered to the others at his table. "Far be it from me to suggest tactical advice, but now might be a good time to initiate a tactical retreat."

Jean agreed. "In other words, things are about to get messy."

Kitty stifled a laugh, "Yeah, like it hasn't already."

Fred tried to scramble to his feet, but he kept slipping on the mush on the floor and falling back on his face. This was met with chortling from much of the school body, which soon snowballed into laughter. Fred exploded. "DON'T LAUGH AT ME!" He scooped up some of his food and hurled it at Duncan, who took it right in the face. His buddies took up their own burgers and flung it at Fred, who quickly retaliated with a soft drink.

"Food fight!" came the shout, and the cafeteria dissolved into a food-flinging frenzy. Many were content to run for the safety of the outside or the hall ways, while others joined in the fun. Scott, Kurt and Jason hit the dirt, while Piotr turned the table on its side to deflect incoming projectiles.

Jean and Kitty tried their best to dodge the food, but Kitty ended up taking a slice of chocolate cake straight to the face. "Eww! No thank you, I'm skipping dessert!" Without another word, she phased through the floor into the maintenance area below, where it was sure to be empty.

Jason agreed. "I'm with her, in a manner of speaking." He snatched up his backpack and made to run. "Later, guys!" And thus he ran, but when he got halfway over, an apple flung by Fred smacked him right in the head, sending him to the ground.

"Jason!" Piotr cried, running up to Jason, ignoring the food splattering against him. "Are you okay?"

Jason picked himself up. "I'm fine, but Sir Newton is so lucky he's dead, because if he wasn't, I'd hurt him!"

Jean looked at the raging pyknic form of Fred, who had abandoned his flood-flinging to scooping up a table in his hands and swinging it around. "Fred, please calm down!" Jean tread carefully towards Fred, all the while discreetly deflecting airborne edibles with brief telekinetic pulses.

Fred continued swinging the table around like a raging gorilla. One by one, the warring students decided to get out of the cafeteria before Fred decided to seriously hurt them. Only Jean continued to come closer, running forwards trying to get Fred's attention. "Fred, please, stop!"

Suddenly, Jean stepped on a piece of cake on the floor that caused her to slip and fall, sending her right up to Fred and nearly underneath him. Fred lifted up the table and was about to smash it down, completely blind in his rage.

"Fred!" Jean shouted in a panic, raising her arms defensively.

Then out of nowhere, a beam of red light blasted the table right out of Fred's hands, leaving only one leg in his hand. Fred was so surprised by the decimation of the table that he forgot to be angry.

Jean seized her opportunity. "Put the table down, Fred!" she said firmly.

Finally, Fred responded, after seeing all that was left of the table in his grip. "Jean?" he said shocked.

"You heard her, big man," came a harsh voice. "Drop the table leg or you'll have to deal with me."

Jean looked to see Scott, who had followed her up, holding his glasses over his eyes securely, ready to let loose his patented optic blasts at a moment's notice. Jean then looked back at Fred, who needless to say didn't care for being threatened. She quickly intervened, "Stop, it's all okay. Everything is okay…right Fred?"

Fred was breathing hard, angry and hurt. "They shouldn't have laughed at me!"

Jean climbed to her feet, ignoring the fact that there was a beautiful chocolate wipe all over her lavender blouse. "No, they shouldn't have." She was conscious that Scott had risen up with her, not a moment leaving Fred out of his gaze. Turning to him, he said, "Scott, don't you have class to get to or something?"

Scott frowned. Jean was telling him to leave both of them alone, and he didn't want to do that at all, after seeing Fred swing that table around like it was a cheap toy. Jason's description of what Fred had done at the Central Texas State Fair the night before was also raising red flags. However, Jean was a good friend and could take care of herself if needed. "I'll be close if you need me…" His shades glinted in the light. "Real close."

Jean replied, "I'll be fine."

Scott sighed and reluctantly made his way out of the cafeteria. Upon leaving the room, he espied Piotr and Jason on the opposite wall, Jason trying to clean off a grease stain from his white shirt, doubtless from the burgers flung around the room. Piotr himself was equally slimed, but didn't seem to mind it. Jason looked up to see Scott. "So, what did I miss?"

Scott peeked over his shoulder into the room, where Jean and Fred were still talking calmly. "Not much."

"Well, it sounds like Fred finally calmed down, thank goodness." Jason resumed scrubbing the grease out of his shirt. "Damn it, I _knew_ I should have worn black today!"

"What's going on here!" came a harsh voice.

All three of them spun around to see Principal Darkhölme glowering over them like a mad mother bear. At once, the principal saw the food stains on their clothing, and then her silver eyes followed the tracks into the cafeteria. "What happened?" she demanded.

Jason stood in. "It was Fred, ma'am. He spilled food on himself and a lot of the students started laughing at him…and he just blew up. It turned into a food fight…and…well…"

Ms. Darkhölme glowered at Jason. "Is that so, Mr. Downs?"

Jason gulped. "Yes, ma'am."

"Well, then all of you had better clean yourselves up and then get to class, now!" barked Ms. Darkhölme.

"Yes, ma'am!" replied Jason and Piotr, and then took off down the hall to find their next class. Scott remained.

Ms. Darkhölme turned her gaze to Scott. "Something the matter, Mr. Summers?"

Scott replied, "If it's all the same to you, Ms. Darkhölme, I'd like to wait for Jean."

Ms. Darkhölme narrowed her eyes. "So help me, Scott Summers, if you are late for class, you will be hearing it for a week in detention!"

"Understood," Scott said calmly.

Ms. Darkhölme left Scott alone, while Scott himself waited patiently outside the cafeteria doors, waiting for Jean to get done, all the while taking peeks inside the cafeteria.

While all that was happening, Jean convinced Fred to take a seat on the floor against the wall and just talk about things, talking about what happened. Jean asked, "So, have you always been made fun of?"

Fred rubbed his eyes. "Yeah, as long as I can remember. I was always big, but I didn't care, because I was always stronger than the others…"

"But…" Jean ventured.

"…but every time I hear them laughing at me…I get so angry. I just blow up inside, you know?"

Jean laid a hand on one of Fred's shoulders. "I understand, Fred, and I know how hard it is to be made fun of, and you have a right to be angry; no one should ever do that to a person. But you should learn to take control of your anger, like how you can control your strength. You can get training…"

Fred laughed himself, looking skeptical. "Yeah, right! Where?"

Jean thought briefly about what she was about to say. She knew that Fred was a mutant, just like her. Jason and Logan confirmed it when seeing his strength in action in Texas, let alone how strong he was to throw around a table or a set of lockers like he could. They had planned to recruit him into the Institute as well, but Mystique had beaten them to him. Maybe it wasn't too late yet. "I learned how to control my own gifts at the Institute I live at."

"Gifts?" Fred said, puzzled. Then it dawned on him. "You mean you have powers too?"

"Uh-huh, watch," Jean stood up, scoping the room to make sure they were alone. Seeing that they were, she pointed Fred to a broken chair lying on the floor. Narrowing her eyes, she held out her hands towards the chair, and at once it flew up into the air. Then, with a quick flick of the wrist, Jean sent the chair telekinetically into the wall, shattering on impact.

Fred's eyes nearly bugged out of his head. "Wow! You can really pound people with that!"

Jean looked abashed. "No, Fred! That's what we learn not to do at the Institute. The Professor says that all the gifts we get we can use to help others, not hurt them. After all, Fred, if I used my powers to hurt people, how would I be different from the bullies that laughed at you? That's what the Xavier Institute is all about: control and helping others. I'd love to take you there sometime. You can talk to the Professor and see what he says. I'm sure he'd love to have you stay with us."

Fred rubbed the back of his head. "I don't know…"

"It's okay, you don't have to do it now. Just let me know when you're ready and I'll take you there."

Fred smiled. This girl was all too swell. "I'll think about it."

"Great!" Jean said. "Well, I'd better get going to class. I'll see you around, Fred!" she waved, then turned to leave the room.

Fred waved back, and turned to pick up his own backpack. When he did, he noticed that Jean had accidentally left her own backpack on the floor. At once, he snatched it up and turned to Jean. "Hey, Jean!"

Jean had reached the door, when she turned to Fred.

Fred was about to say something, but then noticed that the guy with the red glasses had joined Jean and still looked like he was sizing Fred up. Sighing, he just said, "Nothing."

Jean blinked. "Oh. Okay." Then she left with Scott, leaving Fred alone.

Fred didn't move from his spot, fondling Jean's backpack in his hands. Who was that jerk in the glasses anyway? He didn't think he was one of the others who laughed at him, but the way he looked at him… Fred looked down at the backpack and noticed that a front pocked was unzipped and what looked like a picture was peeking out. Curious, he took out the picture and put the backpack back where it lay initially. He then unfolded the picture to reveal a photograph of Jean and the guy with the sunglasses Jean called "Scott" standing closely together.

_Very_ closely.

Fred angrily ripped the picture in half, as if trying to separate Jean from Scott. He turn took Jean's half and put it in his pocket, while he dropped Scott's half on the floor and ground it underneath his massive foot. Satisfied, he turned to leave.

No one was going to take Jean from him. Not that Scott guy, not that Duncan guy. No one. Jean belonged to him.

* * *

><p><em>Sanctum Santorum - Later that day<em>

Jason clapped his hands together, closing his eyes in deep concentration as well as to brace against the shocking pain in his arms and hands. However, instead of separating them, he kept them together. Around him, a large archaic-looking diagram surrounded him, lighting up with the green alchemic energy that came forth whenever Jason called upon it. As Jason concentrated, the diagram lit up brighter.

After only a few seconds, Jason started to sweat and his arms began to tremble. The pain was building faster than he thought it would.

"Concentrate, Jason!" came a voice.

Jason gritted his teeth. "I'm trying…but it's starting to hurt."

"You must keep going!"

"I'm trying!"

"Keep going!"

Jason finally cried out in pain as his right arm convulsed from pain, ripping his hand away from the other one. At once, the energy died around him as he fell onto his hands and knees, gasping. Jason remained on the floor, partly from pain and shame. This was the third time they've tried this exercise, and he'd failed each and every time, all because the pain was too great.

Finally, he mustered up the nerve to look up. The first thing he saw was Dr. Strange, arms crossed and looking down at Jason. At once, Jason lowered his head.

Dr. Strange started quietly. "Stand up, Jason."

Jason raised his head, and then slowly climbed to his feet, rubbing his forearms to massage the pain out. He looked at Dr. Strange and sighed, "I…I'm sorry…"

"Tell me what happened," Dr. Strange said calmly.

Jason looked down at the array beneath his feet. "It was going fine for a while, but the more I kept my hands together, the pain just exploded in my arms. After a little bit more, it makes my head swim. That's about it."

Dr. Strange looked thoughtful. "I feared that was the case. I might have been too hasty in training you for alchemic energy channeling."

Jason rubbed the scar on his head; the pain seemed to focus on that area. "Too soon?"

"Perhaps. While the array I laid out for you to use is one devoted purely to channel your power, it seems it is not designed to carry the potential energy you carry within you."

Jason rubbed his eyes. "Is that normal?"

"Mutant abilities have been gauged in four levels: Gamma, the lowest, Beta, Alpha, and the highest, Omega. Omega-level mutants are exceedingly rare but are incredibly powerful. Some are so powerful that their own powers often consume the person wielding it."

Jason gulped at that prospect. "Are there any around now?"

Dr. Strange didn't say anything briefly. "There are many powerful beings in the world and outside of it. Some are mutant; others have obtained them for other means."

"But are there any confirmed Omega-level mutants around today?"

Dr. Strange looked down, as if deciding to reveal information better left buried. That alone was enough for Jason. "There are, aren't there?"

"I fear so, child," Dr. Strange said.

The sorcerer's choice of words caught Jason off-guard. "What's wrong?"

"It's not my place to talk about him, young Jason," Dr. Strange quickly said.

Jason blinked. "But—"

"We will not speak more of it," Dr. Strange said firmly. "Time is short and I will not abide idle conversation when there is more to learn today. Now, for the next five minutes, meditate on your previous lessons while I prepare the next lesson." Without another word, Dr. Strange left Jason alone.

Jason didn't move briefly, too stunned by what just transpired. The last thing he remembered was asking about an Omega-level mutant, or rather on its existence, and Dr. Strange dodged the question. There was one in the world, but apparently it had disturbed Dr. Strange to the point he wouldn't talk about it. Why? It seemed like an innocent enough question, but Dr. Strange didn't seem to see it as such. There wasn't anything he could do about it now, though. Sitting down in the array, he crossed his legs, closed his eyes and began to breathe deeply.

He was grateful that meditation was included in his training with Dr. Strange. It was very relaxing on its own, and outside of school and his training back at the Institute, it was a good way to just relax. He often borrowed elements of meditation to help him fall asleep when a lot was on his mind…and those nights were frequent.

He couldn't help it really. The minutes before he went to sleep seemed impregnated with forgotten thoughts he put in the back of his mind. Right when he was about to fall asleep, something would pop in his mind that he just had to entertain for a bit before going to bed. _"Better than having another night terror," _he thought.

Just then, he thought he heard a ghost of a whisper in the back of his mind. Meditation forgotten, his mind chased after it like a hound, but it was gone. Suddenly, it came back in another corner of his head, and he focused on it again, but it fell silent again. Perplexed, Jason opened his eyes, returning to the room he never left. Shaking his head a bit, he dwelled on what he has just heard. He couldn't even identify the sound beyond a whisper of whatever it was.

Looking at the only door in the room briefly, he entertained the thought of asking Dr. Strange or even Professor Xavier about it. Only after a few seconds, he banished the idea. How would he even begin to explain it? _"Oh, hello, Dr. Strange. I was wondering if you could talk to me about a sound inside my head. No, I don't know what it is beyond it sounds like someone's breathing into my ear."_ Jason rolled his eyes, fighting a smile. _"Yeah, like that would be a legitimate cause for concern."_

Forcing himself to forget about it, he closed his eyes and sank into meditation again. Provided there were no more imaginary mental interruptions, he should be just fine.

* * *

><p><em>A few hours later…<em>

The Professor was sitting quietly in his study, admiring the changing colors of the sky as the sun sank in the west as he mentally monitored his students for the evening. Only an hour before, Jason had returned from his lesson with Dr. Strange. The Professor had noticed that Jason's mind was a little preoccupied, but ever since coming to the Institute only a few weeks prior, that's what Jason's mind has ever been. It came as no surprise when Jason returned home preoccupied. Jason was still adapting to his new environment, and if he remembered right—which he always did—there was a musical he was preparing for weeks to audition for.

The Professor had kept a close eye on Jason ever since he came to the Institute. It wasn't because of his unusual power—for mutants anyway; he had the personal interest of Magneto. The Professor knew that Magneto was the head of the Brotherhood of Mutants, but Mystique was the one really recruiting for him…until Jason came along. He knew Magneto wanted Jason for his incredible power; that was simply the gist of it all. Magneto would not give up on Jason that easily, and with Mystique in so close a proximity to Jason at school, keen observance of Jason was vital for his welfare.

Despite that, the Professor did find Jason's power to be astounding. In just a few training sessions, Jason's alchemy was becoming more and more accurate with each use. After the hurricane, he fixed up one of the statues that was broken when a tree branch snapped the head off of it by simply using his alchemy. The statue didn't look like it was broken at all. The Professor couldn't help but be hopeful for Jason's future. He knew one day mutants would be revealed to the public eye, and it would be mutant like Jason that could be the spearhead to a bright and better future for human-mutant relations.

The Professor looked up; something brushed his mind in the astral realm. Putting his fingers to his temples, he looked through the alternate plane and at once saw the astral form of Dr. Strange looking at him. _"Greetings, dear friend."_

"_The same salutations to you, Stephen. How may I help you?"_

"_I thought I should at least inform you of a question that arose in Jason's lesson today."_

The Professor's brow fell slightly over his eyes. _"What question?"_

"_After I had him exert as much alchemic power that he could muster, he started inquiring on the classification of mutants based on their power potentials."_

"_And he asked about Omega-level mutants."_

"_Quite so, more on the present existence of any Omegas."_

"_What did you tell him?"_

"_I said nothing, but Jason figured it out from my silence alone."_

The Professor folded his hands together. He too was aware of the existence of Omega-level mutants of terrifying power, and one in particular. That mutant forced him to make one of the most difficult decisions of his life, one that still remains on his mind to this day. _"What else?"_

"_I did not wish to inform Jason about…"_ Dr. Strange trailed off; none further needed to be said.

"_Yes, thank you."_

"_There was one other thing I wished to ask you."_

The Professor look up to the azure form of Dr. Strange. _"What is it?"_

"_Have you considered that the boy may be a new Omega-class mutant?"_

The Professor's eyes widened.

"_You recall that I said I was testing Jason's alchemic prowess today? I had him summon continual alchemic energy through his body by keeping his hands together. He was standing upon a specially constructed alchemic array designed to cycle his energy back into the flow he summons from."_ Dr. Strange's eyebrows sank. _"It was not powerful enough. Charles, that circle was the most powerful I could create with my knowledge, and it was too weak to contain it. The power kept backing up into Jason's body creating intense pain. If Jason's involuntary nervous responses failed, Jason's body would destroy itself from the inside from all that power he summoned. I would even go as far as to say that Jason's affliction could be an additional safeguard to prevent that from happening, if not the only one._

"_Charles, Jason is a very powerful mutant; he has no idea how powerful he is. I fear he may be an Omega, and you know what that means."_

The Professor said nothing, but his mind was racing. If Jason truly was an Omega-level mutant… No, he could not go there just yet, not until he was sure. _"Thank you, Stephen, for telling me."_

"_What do you plan to do?"_

"_I don't know yet."_

"_Tread carefully, my friend. I will continue to shield him from the denizens of the Dark Dimension…but I cannot help to shield him from her. Good evening, my friend."_ With that, he disappeared from the psychic realm.

The Professor opened his eyes, returning to the physical realm, but his mind was considering what he had just learned. He scanned the Institute for Jason and found him in his room along with Piotr studying and talking. He watched them mentally as they carried on like nothing was wrong. Could it really be possible that Jason was an Omega? If that was true, what were the odds that he would be chosen to be her host?

His thoughts switched to a most unusual meeting he had long before he formed the Institute. He ran into a rather majestic woman, which for a short time had enjoyed a fruitful relationship. However, one day, the Professor had learned that this woman was Lilandra Neramani, the Majestrix of the Shi'ar Empire, a vast empire encompassing entire galaxies. For some time, Majestrix Lilandra had helped the Professor in establishing his school for mutants—although at the time he didn't have a plan where. The Danger Room technology was based on the holographic technology that was child's play to the Shi'ar, as well as the cloaking technology the X-Jet had.

She had come to Earth to look at what the Shi'ar believed to be a vessel imprisoning a mighty force of the universe. Just before she had to return to the Empire, she left the Professor with a small warning in the form of a Shi'ar prophecy: it was believed that someone on Earth showing exceptional power would play the host of the force the Shi'ar held in reverence:

The Phoenix.

Ever since then, the Professor kept a lookout for exceptionally powerful men and women in case the prophecy was true. The logical part of his mind didn't believe in it, but before he met Lilandra, he wasn't sure he would have believed in alien races either. He suspected that if the prophecy was true, the host would be an Omega-level mutant, since it appeared that Omegas were the only beings of Earth that would be the most powerful beings to walk the Earth.

If Jason was indeed an Omega-level mutant, then he might be a candidate as a host. The Professor didn't know what to think about this Phoenix if she was real, but it was disturbing to think that a living force was living so close at hand. What would they do if the Phoenix did come and possessed someone? What if that host was Jason?

The Professor put a hand to his head. _"I simply don't know."_

* * *

><p><em>The next day…<em>

Jean thought about the coming few days and what she had to do. It was only Thursday and the homework was piling up more than a landfill. She tried not to complain, but despite the fact she was a telepathic and telekinetic mutant, she was still a seventeen-year-old student; massive amounts of homework will drive anyone crazy, human or mutant. This was definitely one of those times that the temptation of using telepathy to "make things easier" knocked so loudly that it gave her a headache. It didn't help that her telepathy was hyper-powered in such a way that she had to focus to keep powers out. In a busy place like school, it often left her tired at the end of the day. Thankfully, she's had plenty of time to perfect her technique—with the Professor's help of course—so being able to filter the thoughts proficiently was as natural as walking now.

As she swapped out some choice books and notebooks for the night, she espied Jason down the hall hastily swapping out his books and pulling out some unidentifiable papers, occasionally interrupted by his frequent watch-checking. Jean smiled; Jason had been obsessing about the musical auditions for the last week that it was hilarious. Jean never said anything mentally or otherwise, but he listened in when Jason practiced his song in the shower. She didn't ping Jason to have a lovely singing voice. Now that she thought about it, Jason did mention something about wanting to try out for vocal club at his old school had he not come to the Institute. She had entertained the thought of just coming to watch the auditions to support Jason—

"Hey, Jean!"

Jean turned to see Taryn Fujioka, her best friend outside the Institute, come running up, bearing her own school books. "Oh, hi, Taryn!"

"Oh, thank God I found you. I was hoping to find you before I had to run to the auditions for Drama."

"Is something wrong?"

"Oh, nothing, except that homework is threatening to drive me off the Brooklyn Bridge."

Jean smiled. "I know that feeling."

"Yeah, I mean, there goes my entire weekend, and it's not even Friday yet!" Taryn let her head fall into her books briefly before raising it back up to ask. "Hey, are you coming to the auditions for the musical?"

Jean brushed a lock of her auburn hair from her face. "I was thinking about it." She looked to where she last saw Jason, only to find he had vanished.

"Well, come along, girlfriend! I'm already freaking out about it already, and I really want my best friend to be there!"

Jean knew that she really needed to get started on her homework, or she would have a very busy weekend ahead of her, but she did want to support her friends in this, let alone the fact she did want to see the auditions anyway. "Ok, I'll be there, but we'd better hurry."

"Oh, thank you, Jean!" Taryn replied happily. "I'm nervous enough as it is about this. I don't even know what the play is about, but like it matters…"

Jean smiled a bit. Taryn may be her best friend, but her chattiness when nervous did get annoying after a while. Kitty was the same way as well. A mild thought speculated what conversation Taryn and Kitty, equally nervous, would create.

To get to the auditions, they had to get to the auditorium, a separate building from the school but on the grounds. They were about half way there when Taryn happened to look to her right to the bushes and gave a squeak in surprise. Jean looked up to find the round form of Fred Dukes just beside the bushes. Jean noticed by his posture that it looked like he was waiting for something…

…or some_one_.

"Oh, hi, Fred," Jean greeted, albeit cautiously. "This is my friend, Taryn."

Taryn, who had retreated a step behind Jean, replied timidly. "Hi."

Fred didn't seem to be interested in Taryn, and replied politely. "Yeah, hi." Turning back to Jean, his demeanor seemed to change to outright nervousness. "Uh, Jean…I was wondering…would you…well…do you…wanna get a soda or something?"

Jean blinked in surprise at this question, and the implication of the question finally sunk in. Willing herself to calm down, she answered, "Oh, I'm sorry, Fred, but I'm going to the auditions with Taryn, then I have to go back to the Institute to get homework done." Jean seemed to brighten. "Hey, how about I catch up with you tomorrow, ok?" With that, Jean made her way around Fred, followed quickly by Taryn, who tried her best not to look at Fred.

Fred scowled. "Homework, huh?" He turned to Jean again and said accusingly. "Is that the best you can come up with? Homework?"

Jean stopped and didn't look back to Fred She merely looked down and considered her options. "Uh, Taryn, maybe you should go on ahead. I'll try to catch up with you there."

Glancing back at Fred, Taryn asked, "Are you going to be okay?"

Jean finally glanced back at Fred, who hadn't moved. Things were heading south quickly, and she needed to defuse the bomb fast. "Yeah, I will be. I just need to make a few things clear."

That didn't seem to assure Taryn very much, but she said. "Ok, Jean. Be careful, okay?"

"Yeah."

With that, Taryn made her way alone to the auditorium. Jean watched her go, took a deep breath and turned to Fred…only to find him nearly on top of her. Apparently, while Taryn and she were talking about Fred's veiled accusation, Fred had taken the opportunity to close the distance between him and her. Willing herself to calm down, she said calmly but firmly. "Listen, Fred. You seem like a nice-enough guy, but I have responsibilities that I have to fulfill. Ergo, I can't do anything with you right now."

Fred scowled deeper, and then grabbed Jean by her wrist, causing her to drop her books. "But you're _my_ friend!"

Jean fought the urge to give Fred a proper telekinetic kick to the ass. "I thought we were, but friends don't do this." Now Jean scowled. "Now let go; you're hurting me!"

"Just let me talk to you for a second…in private!" Fred argued, and then pulled her away from the sidewalk. Jean struggled to get him to let go, but his grip was like a vice. Jason was right; this guy was very strong.

Fred dragged her a good distance away towards the back of the school, where the only thing there was a lot of scaffolding, construction equipment and an obscene amount of cinderblocks. Jean wouldn't give up. "Fred, cut it out! I need to get home!" Jean continued to struggle, and then finally broke free from him.

Fred spun around, his temper roused. "You gotta go out with me!"

"No, I don't!" With that, Jean took off.

She only got a few steps in when Fred grabbed her by both her forearms tightly.

"Let me go!" Jean cried. "I'm warning you!"

Fred didn't appear to listen. "Go out with me!"

Jean had enough. Espying a couple cinderblocks, she lifted them up telekinetically and hurled them at Fred's head and side. They shattered upon impact, but Fred was completely unfazed. Angry, he said, "Is that the best you got!"

Jean reached out again and grabbed three dozen cinderblocks and even a nearby dumpster. Again, the cinderblocks shattered harmlessly, and Fred swatted away the flying dumpster as if it was just a fly. Grabbing a hold of Jean again, he yelled. "You can't hurt me!"

"Let me go, Fred!" Jean cried.

Suddenly, a piece of scaffolding fell next to them. Both looked to see that the dumpster Fred swatted away had destroyed the lower scaffolding, causing the entire apparatus to collapse down upon them. Jean screamed as wood, metal and cinderblocks rained down on top of both of them, burying them alive.

For a while, nothing happened. Finally, after several seconds, the pile moved, sliding aside to reveal Fred, completely unharmed, still holding onto Jean. Jean was limp as a doll and Fred had noticed. Confused, Fred brushed the hair out of her face, revealing the nastiest abrasion he had ever seen. Horrified, Fred covered the wound back up Jean's hair. Suddenly scared, he looked around, wondering if he should call for help.

Wait a minute. She was no longer struggling. That mean he could now take her wherever he wanted. His terror evaporated and was replaced with happiness. Finally, things were going his way! Looking around again to make sure he was alone, he carried Jean away from the school, to the place where he was planning to take her, away from everyone else, where no one would bug them.

This was going to be the best day ever.

* * *

><p>Rogue was bored; that was the simple truth of it. Here she was, sitting in a back seat of the auditorium, watching the front rows slowly fill up with others from Drama class along with more of the student body; doubtless they were just here to watch. Open auditions weren't until tomorrow.<p>

She just wanted to get her audition over and done with and get the hell out of here. She hated crowds with a passion; it always reminded her on why she couldn't get too close with someone. With all that jostling and bustling, pushing and shoving, trying not to touch anyone with her head—the only part of her not covered—was a true test of patience.

She scowled as more and more people were starting to show up. Was it ever going to end?

"Mind if I sit here?"

Rogue looked up to see Jason standing in the aisle next to her. For a quick second, she felt like telling Jason to bugger off, but that would have been just taking out her frustration on him. Besides, Jason was one of the closest she might call a friend, since they had more in common than they initially thought. "Sure, go ahead."

"Thanks," Jason said, brushing past her to sit down in the chair next to her. "If I may, why are you all the way back here anyway?"

Rogue's brow fell over her eyes. "Why is that weird?"

Jason blinked in surprised. "I didn't say it was weird; I just thought…" Jason tried to defend his question, but finally sighed. "Fine, you caught me. It is a little weird; I just figured that like everyone else, you'd be up front so you didn't have to walk so far."

"Well, I'm not everyone else, am I?"

Jason winced. He didn't even bother to rebut that one. "No," he sighed.

Rogue knew she was being thorny, but Jason lately had made it a habit of tripping over his own tongue when it came to talking with her, and it was annoying. What she didn't get was that Jason didn't seem to make any attempt to argue with her. Just about everyone else at the Institute has had some kind of argument with her—some more than others—but she couldn't remember doing it once with Jason. Before the hurricane, they barely even talked to each other, and sure, they bonded a bit in the basement during Irene's reign of terror in the skies, but nothing really changed.

Rogue managed to sneak a look at Jason, who still looked a little hurt. Rogue nearly scoffed, and she considered getting up and moving even further back in the auditorium. A voice in her head scolded her for even considering it. Jason didn't mean any harm in talking to her, but please, it doesn't take a moment of orphan-bonding to magically become friends overnight. He needs to stop trying so hard.

"Am I interrupting something?"

Rogue and Jason looked up to see Jean-Paul standing in the aisle where Jason was scarce moments ago. Jason said quietly. "No, you weren't. You need something?"

Jean-Paul just shrugged. "Only friendly faces in the room, really. Mind if I join?"

Jason and Rogue glanced at each other, and Jason replied, "Nothing's stopping you."

Beaming, Jean-Paul walked a few paces down the row of chairs in front of them, just before vaulting over it to sit in the seat beside Jason. Upon landing, he brushed his wavy black hair out of his face and leaned in to Jason. "So, you ready for this?"

Jason leaned back a bit; Jean-Paul was dangerously close to his face. He managed a smile. "Yeah, ready as I'll ever be. _Et-tu_?"

"Are you kidding me? I was born ready!"

Jason's smile grew more genuine. "For some reason, that doesn't surprise me."

Suddenly, Mr. Young called attention to the stage. "All right, class, we will begin the class auditions momentarily. I also ask you to remember that tomorrow after school will be the open auditions, and I would like it if all of you would attend for script-reading. You won't be re-auditioning tomorrow; today will be your one time only. I would also like to take the time to thank those outside the class who are here today to support their classmates.

"Now, without further ado, we shall proceed." Flipping through a stack of mock-resumes he was carrying, he drew one out. "Ms. Blaire, come up to the stage please."

"Ooh, Alison Blaire!" whispered Jean-Paul.

"Which one is she again?" Jason asked the same way.

"Just look and see…"

Jason looked up to the stage again and saw one of the most beautiful women he had ever seen step up on the stage. Flowing blonde hair, ample curves, and a confident walk that just screamed "you know you want me," she was the image of Aphrodite. Jason couldn't believe that they were in the same class with her and he never noticed. He certainly needed to pay more attention to the people around him.

"Earth to Jason," said Jean-Paul.

Jason snapped out of his trance and looked at Jean-Paul. "What?"

"Oh, thank God," Jean-Paul dramatically placed a hand over his heart. "I thought we lost you for a second."

Jason shoved Jean-Paul lightly, "Laugh it up, jerk."

Rogue was not impressed at the spectacle. When she saw Alison, all she saw was just another Miss Popularity candidate, a diametric opposite of the kind of person she herself was. Look at her, strutting her stuff, earning the eyes—and the hanging tongues—of every male in the room. Even Jason here just about fell on his face. Little Miss Perfect, that's all she was.

Alison Blaire took the stage like she owned it, and took the microphone from the stand. Mr. Young, sitting down in the half-lowered orchestra pit, put his papers together and asked Alison, "Thank you, Ms. Blaire. What roll did you plan to audition for?"

"I would like to audition for Lilli Vanessi, Mr. Young."

Jean-Paul pursed his lips. "Ooh, the main female role of the musical."

"Wouldn't know," Jason replied.

"Now what will you be performing for us tonight?" Mr. Young asked.

Alison delicately brushed a lock of golden hair from her face and said plainly, "I will be performing 'I Dreamed a Dream' from _Les Miserables_."

Jean-Paul again remarked. "Oh my, that's a jewel of a song."

Jason smiled. "Still talking over my head."

Jean-Paul side-eyed Jason. "We need to 'culturalize' you, boy."

"Ok, whenever you're ready, Ms. Blaire," Mr. Young said.

Alison motioned to the pianist on the side of the stage, and at once she played the soft prelude into the song. The auditorium fell silent as the melody chimed its way to the first notes of the chorus. Alison looked very relaxed on the stage, and then, she opened her mouth and sang. _"__I dreamed a dream in time gone by…"_

Jason's and Jean-Paul's eyes nearly fell out of their heads as their eyelids shot open. Wolf-whistles blared through the room as others cheered. Alison wasn't just beautiful; she had the voice of an angel.

"_When hope was high__ a__nd life worth living__, __I dreamed that love would never die…"_

By now, the entire auditorium was up on their feet and cheering. This was no longer an audition; it was a concert. Jason and Jean-Paul had found themselves on their feet, clapping and cheering along with the crowd.

"_I dreamed that God would be forgiving__, t__hen I was young and unafraid, And dreams were made and used and wasted__, __There was no ransom to be paid__, __No song unsung, no wine untasted…"_

The room was electrified by her voice as cheers and applause rose and fell, but no matter what noise of appraisal came forth, it couldn't come close to praising the voice that emitted from Alison's mouth.

"_But the tigers come at night__, __With their voices soft as thunder__, __As they tear your hope apart__, __As they turn your dream to shame…"_

At the apex of the bridge, the crowd exploded in cheers and applause. Jason clapped his hands over his mouth and had to sit down; his legs just didn't have the strength to hold him up.

"_And still I dream he'll come to me__, __That we will live the years together__, __But there are dreams that cannot be__, __And there are storms we cannot weather…"_

It was Jean-Paul's turn to sit down, and he was sure he was going to cry at a moment's notice.

"_I had a dream my life would be__, __So different from this hell I'm living__, __So different now from what it seemed__, __Now life has killed the dream I dreamed."_

At the close, the entire auditorium erupted into one last cheer and applause. Alison's voice had put them under a spell and as calls for encores soared through the air, the magic was complete. Alison Blaire had won the hearts of those who heard her sing the monody.

Jason couldn't breathe while Alison spoke to Mr. Young, the latter congratulating her for her grand performance. He was still spellstruck by what he had just heard. Jean-Paul recovered first, "I never knew she was such an excellent singer! Why hasn't she gone for a talent agency yet? Keeping that voice locked away has to be some kind of crime!"

Jason gasped a couple more times before he was able to speak. "Someone get Simon Cowell on the phone, and if he even thinks about shoehorning this out the door, I will personally kick him in the ass…"

Jean-Paul bounced up in his seat. "Jason, you just said a mouthful."

"I just can't believe what I just heard! Hell, I can't believe she was in the same class and I never noticed her before! And to top it all off, how the hell am I supposed to get up on that stage and sing what I have after _that_!" Jason brushed his forehead. "Compared to that, I'll sound like a little kid singing his ABC's. No way I'm going to beat that!"

Rogue, who had been sitting quietly for the entire thing, finally scoffed. "Yeah, whatever." Without another word, she got up from her seat and traveled further back in the auditorium.

Jason and Jean-Paul watched her go, stunned for an entirely different reason. Jean-Paul finally managed to say, "What just happened?"

Jason didn't move. "I don't know!" He turned to Jean-Paul. "Was it something I said?"

Jean-Paul could only shrug. Jason turned back, watching Rogue find a seat near the very back of the auditorium, completely lost. Lately, it seemed Rogue was isolating herself more and more, and it seemed like lately it was because it was something he said. Turning back to face the stage, he slid back down into his seat, the ecstasy he was in during Alison's performance long broken.

* * *

><p><em>Unknown location, 5:21 PM<em>

Jean began to come to, and the first thing she felt was the sick dizziness of what might be a concussion. Her eyesight was blurry and her thoughts muddy; she couldn't tell where she was and just how she got here.

"Wakey, wakey, sleeping beauty!" said a voice, muffled.

Jean blinked, trying to wake up enough. Her vision began to sharpen little by little, and eventually she found she was sitting at a table, decorated with dishes, candles and even a vase of flowers. Standing across from her was a large, round-statured boy that would have stood head and shoulders above her had she been standing.

Her eyes shot open as the memories came flooding back. She remembered now! That kid was Fred Dukes, and he tried to force her into going out with him, and when she refused, there was a tussle. During that fight, some scaffolding collapsed, raining down cinderblocks and what else on top of them both. Judging from her headache, she just have received a good clout in the head from the debris.

She tried to stand up, but found that her arms and legs were bound to the chair she was sitting in, and she was bound with solid bars of metal. Even with telekinesis she had no hope of bending them open. So, Fred was still up for making her go out with her, and had hogtied her to a table to have dinner. If she wasn't the one tied up, she would have found the situation laughable…maybe.

"_I wish I was dreaming right now,"_ Jean thought.

"This is going to be the best day of your life, sweetheart!" Fred said ecstatically.

Jean was stuck, and she knew it. There was only one way she was ever going to get out of here now. It was time to call for help. Closing her eyes, she reached out with her telepathy and called for help, hoping that the Professor was still within hearing range per se.

* * *

><p><em>Xavier Institute for Gifted Children, 5:21 PM<em>

Just outside the Institute itself, training was in session. At first glance, it looked like a simple game of keep-away, but the goal was more serious. Whoever had the football was to use their powers constructively to keep the ball away from the other, who had free use of his powers but was not allowed to directly attack the bearer of the prize.

Kitty ran through the woods, holding the football in one hand as she ran, phasing through whatever was in her way. Close behind her was Kurt, porting in and out when he encountered the same obstacles Kitty did. While the two were on their merry chase, Logan and Professor Xavier were watching on the sidelines.

Kitty kept running, making sure she phased through everything she saw in front of her. This exercise was just too easy. Sure, Nightcrawler was agile, and could teleport, but she could phase through anything as long as she paid attention. Looking back, she saw Kurt was on her tail, not shaking off the pursuit one bit. Well, he can keep chasing her; she can keep running until Doomsday.

_**WHAM!**_

Kitty did not see the tree in front of her path, and ran straight into it. The collision knocked the ball right out of her hands. Kurt smiled and teleported, reappearing where the ball was flying and snatched it out of the air. Landing gracefully on a fallen tree, he jeered, "It's mine now, Kitty!"

Rubbing her head, she looked up and saw Kurt just sitting there. Gritting her teeth, she jumped at Kurt. "Give that back, you creep!"

Kurt just sat there until she was right within reached, and then teleported away, right onto a tree branch.

"Watch where your porting, elf!" shouted Logan.

Kurt looked confused at Logan, when suddenly the branch underneath him broke clean off, sending him to the ground. He was so startled that he forgot to teleport.

"Gotcha!" Kitty laughed, jumping up to meet Kurt, then phasing right through him. As she did, she grabbed the ball with one hand, and giving Kurt a firm tug on the tail with the other.

Kurt landed flat on his face, and lay there briefly. When he finally got up, she found Kitty standing there. Sticking her tongue out mischievously, she then laughed and ran off. Kurt growled and took off after her.

Logan was not impressed. "What kind of stunt was that?"

The Professor, on the other hand, was quite amused. "You should know, my friend: innovation, adaptability, improvisation. It's what they are here to learn as well as every other student here at the Institute."

"Playing around like that isn't what I had in mind, Chuck…"

"Often the simplest solution to a problem isn't the one we have in mi—"

"_Professor! I need help! I don't know where I am, but please help me!"_

The Professor winced as Jean's voice echoed through his head. Bringing a hand to his head, he called out telepathically, _"Stay calm, Jean. We'll come find you!"_

Logan noticed the change right away. "What's wrong?"

Aloud, the Professor replied, "It's Jean, she's been kidnapped!"

Wolverine was instantly in business. "Class over, you two!" He called to Kitty and Kurt. "Elf, find Scarface and Rogue!" He then took off at a run. "I gotta ride!"

The Professor reached out to the rest of the X-Men at the Institute. "X-Men, suit up and stand by for further orders now!"

Kurt wordlessly teleported away while Kitty ran towards the Institute. The Professor waited there briefly, but then remembered that Logan had called Kurt to find Jason as well as Rogue. That concerned him. Ever since the conversation with Dr. Strange, the Professor had wondered what he should do with Jason. He wasn't an X-Men yet, and the only real action he had scene outside the Danger Room was his tussle with Sabretooth a couple weeks prior. Jason had been receiving additional training since then, particularly in combat, but the Professor wasn't sure Jason was ready for mission-work just yet. He was mainly lucky against Sabretooth, and luck wasn't always going to be on his side.

Perhaps, for this mission, Jason should sit this one out. In the very least, it would be a good way to test his obedience. The Professor left for the mansion, alone in his thoughts.

* * *

><p><em>City Park, 5:32 PM<em>

It was a quiet hot evening in the park, but that didn't matter much to a couple of high school students sitting on a picnic table in the shade of the trees. Jason and Rogue had come to the park after the auditions were over to attempt to get a read-through of their drama assignment for next week done. Jason had managed to catch up to Rogue after they separated in the auditorium to ask about if they could do their assignment. It took some convincing, but Rogue finally agreed.

So, now there were here, reading through Act 5, Scene 2 of Shakespeare's _Henry V_.

Jason read from his book, speaking slowly as he tried to get the flow of the language. _"__Fair Katharine, and most fair, __w__ill you vouchsafe to teach a soldier terms__such as will enter at a lady's ear __a__nd plead his love-suit to her gentle heart?"_

Rogue replied from her book. _"__Your majesty shall mock at me; I cannot speak your 'England.'"_

"_O fair Katharine, if you will love me soundly with__your French heart, I will be glad to hear you__confess it brokenly with your English tongue. Do__you like me, Kate?"_

"Pardonnez-moi_, I cannot tell what is 'like me.'"_

"_An angel is like you, Kate, and you are like an angel."_

Rogue smiled. "The girls were right; you are a bit of a charmer."

Jason looked up from his book, and then said with a grin. "I wish, but you know I was just reading the lines."

Rogue looked up from her own book. "Yeah, I know."

Jason waited for Rogue to get back to the lines; he hoped he didn't have to say anything that would just result in his usual diet of crow.

Rogue then sighed, "Listen, Jason, can I talk you about something?"

Now that caught Jason by surprise. Blinking, he turn placed a marker in his book and closed it. "What is it, Rogue?"

"I know that you probably think I'm being a bit of a bitch lately, always snapping at you for the dumbest things, you know?"

Jason looked away briefly, and then answered. "Well, I wouldn't say you were a bitch…"

Rogue put her hand under her chin. "Well, then what would you say I've been doing?"

Jason winced. _"Goddamn it, why do I keep walking into this?" _Carefully considering his words, he approached cautiously. "I'm just more wondering what's going on, Rogue. Ever since the hurricane, you seemed a bit…standoff-ish, like you don't want anyone to come near you."

Rogue's eyes narrowed slightly. "Well, you know what happens when I do get too close to someone."

Jason didn't say anything right away. If there was a touchy subject at the Institute besides the origins of his scars, it was Rogue's absorption powers. "Yeah, I do. But I have to ask, does that mean you have to keep all of us at arm's reach?"

Rogue looked firmly at Jason. "Jason, if I touched you right now, I could kill you. Who in their right mind wants to come close to someone when I have my…my…" Rogue broke off.

Jason looked gently at Rogue. "The people who care about you?"

His gentle answer had caught Rogue off-guard. She then hardened up some, "Care doesn't mean crap when I can't get close to someone without killing them. The only way they can come close to me is if they cover themselves up, for put a towel or a blanket between us like you did."

Jason blinked. "What?"

"Remember in the basement during the hurricane? You were telling me about how alone you felt about the memories you had about that one night you never talk about? You leaned in on me like you didn't even know how close I was to killing you with a touch. Your head was on my shoulder, Jason. You were _crying_ into my shoulder. Do you know how much I want to be able for someone to get that close to me, Jason? Even then, you were still so far away from me." Rogue blinked a few times, as if trying to keep back tears. "You said you always felt alone with your own problems, Jason. Well, now you know mine."

Jason was silent for a long time. He remembered that night, but he never thought about how close he was to Rogue at the time. Not once did it enter his mind. And for that, he had no idea that whatever he did had reminded Rogue of her own problems, and because of that, she couldn't look at Jason without remembering how close he was to her. "Gee…I didn't know…"

Rogue didn't answer.

Jason swallowed before continuing. "Figures, leave it to me to be the one causing people problems. Seems like whatever I do, I cause a problem for someone."

Rogue looked at Jason. "What do you mean?"

"Well, there was Scott when I fought Sabretooth under his watch; he nearly had a stroke when he found me drenched in Sabretooth's blood after Wolverine drove him off. And let's not forget about the time I bit off nearly every head at the Institute about two weeks ago. I know it's not my fault…but it's getting annoying." Jason sighed. "And I can't believe I was so selfish that time; I thought I had it hard…but…" He looked at Rogue. "I just…I just can't imagine that."

Suddenly, Kurt teleported in on the table, startling them both. "Jason, Rogue, we have to—" He then looked at both of them again. "Am I interrupting something?"

Rogue clapped a hand to her face. "I swear, Kurt. You're just like an annoying little brother!"

"_You can say that again,"_ Jason thought, and then asked aloud. "What's wrong, Kurt?"

"Jean's been kidnapped!"

Both Jason and Rogue stood up quickly. "What?" they said in unison.

"_Ja_, Logan sent me to take you back so we can find her."

"_Well, so much for our homework,"_ Jason thought. "Then what are we waiting for? Link up, guys!"

"Aye, aye, captain!" Kurt saluted.

When all had gathered their homework up and joined hands, Jason said. "Engage!"

Kurt then teleported them all away from the park.

* * *

><p><em>Unknown location, 5:38 PM <em>

"This is going to be the best night you ever had, Jean." Fred said as he unfolded a napkin. "Food, dancing, it's going to be so great!"

"_Jean, we're sending help. Keep talking to me so I can attempt to get a fix on your position,"_ said the Professor through Jean's mind.

"_Ok, Professor. If it helps, it looks like I'm in some kind of old foreman's office of a factory."_ replied Jean telepathically. As she did, she wondered if she could still get through to Fred. After all, he was able to be talked down before. "Fred…this isn't right."

Fred blinked as he placed the napkin neatly on Jean's lap. "What do you mean 'not right?'"

"You can't just force someone to like you."

Fred rose up to his full height. "Why not? I'm stronger than anyone! No one can mess with me!"

Jean sighed a bit. "Fred, being friendly and nice wins hearts much better than force. Force just makes you a bully. Have you ever heard of the saying 'You can catch more flies with honey than vinegar?'"

Fred's face wrinkled up in disgust. "That's gross! Why would I want to attract flies?" Then, his face lit up. "Oh, I forgot something. I have a surprise for you!" With that, he turned and left her alone.

Jean looked at him go, a little annoyed that her attempts at a peaceful solution went sailing way over Fred's head. _"Professor, please hurry…"_ Jean pleaded mentally.

* * *

><p><em>Planning Room; Xavier Institute of Gifted Children – 5:47 PM<em>

In a matter of minutes, Scott, Rogue, Kitty, Kurt, Piotr and Jason clambered into the Planning Room just outside the Danger Room, all in uniform and ready to go. The Professor sat in the middle of the room, a Cerebro global positioning system readout behind him.

"I'm keeping in mental contact with Jean. She has no idea where she is, except that she may be in some kind of abandoned factory. I used Cerebro to train in on her telepathy and it appears he's somewhere along the old harbor."

Scott immediately took charge. "Then let's move! X-Men, move out!"

"One moment, please," the Professor said.

Scott, a little perturbed about being delayed to find Jean, had to ask. "What's wrong?"

"Alchemist cannot accompany you with this mission."

That silenced everyone in the room, except Jason. "What? Why?"

"You are not a part of the X-Men yet, Alchemist. While you have trained farther than the other newer students here, you are still too inexperienced to accompany the X-Men in their mission."

"Professor," Piotr interjected. "Jason was able to hold his ground against Sabretooth—"

"Against orders, Colossus, and you will address your teammates by codename when in mission briefing and on missions, understood?"

Piotr looked away as he took the rebuke, but then he nodded. "Understood, Professor."

Jason pleaded, "Professor, please. I saw Fred in action, and my powers can be a great deal of help."

The Professor looked firmly at Jason. "This is not up for debate, Alchemist. My decision is final."

Jason wilted slightly at that rebuke. Piotr looked pityingly at Jason, but remained silent.

Scott looked like he had his own reservations about the roster, but he knew better than to argue. "Is there anything else, Professor?"

"No, Cyclops. Dismissed."

Scott glanced at Jason before departing rather quickly. He was followed slowly by Kitty, Piotr and Kurt, each one of them glancing at Jason. Jason looked away and left the room, peeling off his gloves as he went. His mind was buzzing with questions on why he was axed from the roster, and he really wanted to talk to the Professor about it, but he didn't want to look like a whiner.

"Jason?" said a voice.

He looked up to see Rogue standing there. "Rogue, what are you doing here? You're going to get left behind."

"I'll be fine. Are you okay?"

Jason looked at the wall. "Just a bit bummed."

"I don't know why the Professor sent you up the creek. This is the first time I've ever seen someone get left behind on a mission."

"Seems like there's a lot of firsts going around lately."

"The Professor knows your power will help us a lot today; I don't get it."

Jason didn't answer, but his eyes took a distant look as the wheels began to turn in his head. "Maybe…" He then looked at Rogue.

"What?" Rogue asked, noticing the changing expression on Jason's face.

"Who said you can't have your cake and eat it too? I think I have an idea."

Rogue blinked. "You're not going to sneak out and follow us, are ya?"

"No, the Professor would know immediately. Remember what you told me about your powers?"

"Yeah," Rogue replied…then her eyes widened slowly as the implications fell into place. "Jason…you want me to drain you?"

"Just enough for you to get a good sample of my powers. That way, I'll stay here and you can count on my alchemy to help you out."

"But the transfer is temporary. It could wear off before we got there!"

"It's a chance we might have to take." Jason looked at Rogue seriously. "Are you game?"

Rogue thought about it for a little bit. Her own head was buzzing with questions on the Professor's orders, and now added to the mix was Jason's idea on how to get around those orders without breaking them. It would certainly bend them, but not break them, right? _"Well, the Professor didn't say we couldn't bring Jason's power at all." _She then made her decision. "Ok, but I can't touch you for long. Try to concentrate on your powers and what you know how to do."

Jason nodded, and then closed his eyes and began to concentrate on everything he understood about his power as well as the training he had from Dr. Strange. "Ok, I'm ready."

"Are you sure about this?"

Jason didn't move, but nodded. "I trust you, Rogue."

Rogue pulled off a glove from her right hand. "Ok, here we go." With that, she laid a hand on Jason's head.

Rogue grimaced as alchemic power and knowledge poured into her mind like a flood, while Jason bit his tongue to keep from screaming as his life was being sucked out of him. Finally, after three seconds, Rogue removed her hand. Jason fell onto his hands and knees, gasping for air and deathly pale. Rogue rubbed her eyes as her brain attempted to make sense out of the new memories. When she opened her eyes, she saw Jason on the floor. "Jason, are you hurt?"

Jason wheezed. "Go…I'll be fine…Just give me a minute."

Rogue nodded. "Ok, be careful." With that, she began to run. However, she stopped and turned. "Thanks, Jason."

"No…problem." Jason dared to look up and saw that Rogue was now gone. Slowly, he climbed to his feet, blinking as spots danced in front of his eyes. He waited around for several more seconds before opening his eyes. "Well, that was fun…"

"Jason, are you all right?" said a new voice.

Jason slowly glanced over his shoulder to see Hank "Beast" McCoy behind him. "Oh, yeah, I'm fine."

Hank moved around to see Jason better. "Jason, you look like you're going to be sick. We should go to the infirmary."

"I-It's ok, I just need some water and I'll go—" But that was as far Jason got; when he tried to stand upright, a sick wave of lightheaded smacked his head like he was hit with a frying pan.

Hank smiled. "C'mon, Jason. Let's get you to the infirmary." Hank took Jason by the arm and helped him stay on his feet as he escorted Jason down a different hallway. "Were they serving enchiladas at the school again?"

Jason managed to look up. _"Yeah, that's a good excuse,"_ he thought weakly." "I guess I should have been warned first?"

"Nothing some milk of magnesia won't cure."

Jason grimaced. "Oh, that's just great…"

* * *

><p><em>Unknown location, 5:58 PM<em>

Fred reached down into a box and pulled out something he "borrowed" from the storage room at the school: a radio with an inbuilt CD player. Ever since yesterday, he was planning for today, gathering up what he needed from wherever he could find it: candles, tablecloth, napkins, you name it. He was going to make sure Jean would have the best day ever, so good that she would forever leave that jerk with the sunglasses he saw in the picture and be his, only his. Everything was going to plan…

As he crossed the floor towards the old foreman's office, he was startled when something burst through the doors behind him. When he turned, he took a sucker punch to the face, causing him to drop the radio. He swatted his attacker aside and angrily turned to face him, and blanched. In front of him was a man half his size, but by far meaner. Dressed in a black and gold uniform that made him look more like an animal than a person, he snarled as he clenched his fist, shooting out three metal claws from each of his hands. "Okay, bub, how about you hand over Jeannie and I promise I won't chow you the color of your liver!"

Fred scowled. "Mystique told me about you. Well, guess what? Jean is mine and you're not going to take him away from me!" With that, he charged and swung with his fist.

Wolverine vaulted over him, landing a few punches as he went. Despite the fact that Wolverine could break a man's face with just a punch from his fist, his blows did no damage to Fred. All it did was make him angry. "You can't hurt me!" To prove his point, he picked up an old boiler, lifted it over his head, and then tossed it at Wolverine.

Wolverine slid underneath the boiler just as it sailed overhead; had he stayed, he would have been crushed for sure. Brandishing his claws, he snarled as she swiped at Fred. "Let's see just how thick that skin of yours is, bub!"

* * *

><p>Jean looked up as she heard commotion outside. Thankfully, a large viewing window was in the room; looking out, she saw Wolverine tangling with Fred. She didn't know that even he could stand against Fred's strength, but if anything, she could not try to escape without Fred to interrupt her. Looking down at the bars that were wrapped around her, she wondered if she could try to loosen them instead of bend them. Closing her eyes, she concentrated her power around the bars and pushed. The bars were tough all right; they barely even bent.<p>

Jean relaxed, allowing herself to breathe as she looked around to see if there was another way to escape. Maybe if she smashed the window, she could just levitate herself out of here. Hopefully, Colossus wasn't too far behind Wolverine to bend them back out. She looked around the room again to find something that might work, and she laid eyes on a filing cabinet decked with candles.

"_Perfect."_

* * *

><p>Wolverine leaped down from his perch in the rafters above and smashed into Fred, but Fred was ready for him. He grabbed Wolverine by both arms, keeping the adamantium claws away from him. Wolverine was not deterred, and attacked with his feet, savagely kicking at Fred's unprotected face. Fred took one blow right to the neck and lurched forward, falling right on top of Wolverine.<p>

Wolverine felt all six-hundred-plus pounds fall flat on him, knocking the wind out of him and not allowing air to come right back in. Wolverine struggled, but he was good as pinned under someone four times his size. "Can't…breathe…" he managed to whisper.

Fred smiled as he now had the upper hand. "She's my friend! You can't take her from me!"

"Allow me to differ!" yelled a voice.

Fred looked up to see a yellow boot smash into his face. While it didn't do damage, the sheer force of the blow tipped him over on his side, giving Wolverine clearance to roll out from underneath Fred. Fred climbed to his feet angrily to see the tall hulking figure of a man encased in metal.

The man coiled his metal fists together. "I hear things about you; I hear you are a strong one." His pupil-less eyes narrowed. "Then let us see if you can hold your weight against the mighty Colossus!" With that, he swung a gleaming fist at Fred.

Fred caught it, surprised at the strength behind that punch, but quickly retaliated with a punch of his own. Colossus took the brunt of it, but remained on his feet, his five-hundred lbs. of organic steel proving more than an asset. Fred grabbed a nearby boiler and tossed it at Colossus. Colossus held up his hands and dug his feet into the floor. The boiler smashed into him and knocked him back far. Fred grinned. "You're not so tough!"

Suddenly, the boiler rose up as Colossus hoisted it above his own head. "Admirable strength, comrade, but you lack the discipline fit for a man!" With a heave, he threw the boiler right back at Fred. Fred evaded the boiler with surprising speed as the boiler past him, tumbling and crashing, rolling right to a stop against the foreman's office.

* * *

><p>Jean had just managed to get the filing cabinet off the ground, mentally extinguishing the candles before they set ablaze the room. With her hands being bound, she found that her telekinesis doesn't work so well while her arms are pinned to her sides. Managing to get some range of motion with her lower arms, she was able to get the cabinet moving and up.<p>

Suddenly, the glass window blew in, distracting her enough to drop the cabinet. Completely surprised, she saw that the window—as well as part of the wall—was pushed in by a thrown boiler that completely blocked off the blown-in window.

Jean's eyes narrowed in annoyance. _"Perfect."_

* * *

><p>Colossus blanched, realizing what he nearly did. "Jean!"<p>

Fred was livid. "You nearly hurt my friend!" Ripping an exposed I-beam from the wall, he swung it around, smashing it into the stunned Colossus, sending him through the opposite wall.

Suddenly, the beam was shot out of Fred's hands by a red blast of energy. Looking towards the door, he saw two figures in the doorway: a rather scrawny looking girl with a couple of white locks of hair, and the other was a fair-built guy with some really interesting-looking red shades.

Fred narrowed his eyes in recognition. "You!"

Cyclops' eyes narrowed underneath his visor. "You got it, big man. We're here to give Jean a way out, and that means _through_ you if necessary."

"You heard the grump, bub."

Fred turned to see Wolverine, freshly healed, come charging at him with claws brandished. Fred dodged and smacked Wolverine with a fist, only to be countered with a blast from Cyclops right in the face. Fred recoiled, slapping around as he was blinded by the light. Wolverine took the chance and slashed at Fred's vulnerable body…only to find that his claw couldn't cut him!

"Just my fucking luck!" Wolverine growled. "Thankfully, I'm not out of options." He climbed up on Fred's back and whipped his arms around Fred's bloated neck.

Fred gagged; Wolverine was stronger than he looked as he constricted Fred's neck like a snake. If Fred was anyone else but himself, he would have succumbed in an instant. Needless to say, he was the Blob, and the Blob was the strongest—or so he thought—guy on the planet!

Cyclops opened fire on him again to keep Fred occupied, but Fred raised an arm to block his optic blasts. With the other hand, he grabbed Wolverine's head, pulled him off his head than tossed him at Cyclops like a rag doll. Cyclops didn't even see it coming, but he certainly felt the full weight of a metal-boned soldier as it smashed into his middle at high speeds. Both sprawled right out of the building, tumbling into Wolverine's motorcycle; then both lay still.

Rogue, who had stayed back to wait for an opening for her to attack, watch horrified as Fred had taken out Colossus with an I-beam, and then take out Cyclops and Wolverine at the same time! There was no way she could get close enough to drain him now—not that she wanted _his_ thoughts in her head—without help.

She looked in to see Fred turn around and head towards the back of the boiler house. Flicking on her communicator, she called, "Kitty, Kurt, where are you?"

"_Like stuck in traffic, but we're almost there," _replied Shadowcat. _"We'll be there as fast as we can!"_

Rogue groaned; a lot of good that will do. Now she really wished Jason was here.

Suddenly, an idea came to her. Jason wasn't here…but his powers were. Could they stop Fred? Rogue looked in to see that Fred was almost at the door. She then looked at Cyclops and Wolverine. As the plan formed in her head, she slowly took off one of her gloves and walked towards the unconscious two. Dropping to her knees, she reached out for Cyclops' face. "I promise I won't take much," she said, then briefly touched Scott's face.

At once, her eyes changed into a bright red glow as Cyclops' optic blasts now raced down her optic nerves, ready to be unleashed, but unlike Cyclops, she had control. Her brow deepened in determination. It was now time to kick some serious ass.

* * *

><p>Fred reached the door to the foreman's office. Now that those jerks were out of the way, he could now get this out of the way. Jean would have to be impressed with him now: finding off not one but three for her. That should impress her, and she would now respect him for who he was. Everyone will respect him.<p>

He opened the door, and took one step in…only to take a filing cabinet to the face. Taken completely by surprised, he wrestled with the filing cabinet until he was able to grab it firmly and lift it out of his face to show the culprit. "Nobody respects me, and you are the worst!" He shouted to Jean, who looked determined. "You pretended to be my friend!" With a heave, he tossed it right at Jean's face.

Jean quickly used all her power to catch the filing cabinet, stopping it just inches from her face. Assured that she made her catch, she slowly moved it aside so that she could look Fred right in the eye. She spoke sternly, "I did no such thing; I tried to be your friend. I tried to tell you how you could become a better person as well as help with your powers, but you refused to listen. It did not have to be this way, Fred, but if there is anyone to blame for this, it's you and only you." Jean then turned remorseful. "We could have been friends, Fred…but you chose to let your power control you. You've become…an animal."

Fred looked absolutely livid, and turned around and left, slamming the door shut. So, an animal he was, huh? Well, let's see what happened when you hurt an animal. Fred looked at the boiler lying nearby, and immediately picked it up. "I hate you, Jean! This is for pretending to be my friend!" He hoisted it over his head and turned to face the window, where Jean saw what he was planning to do.

Jean braced herself; there was no way she could catch that in time. She only hoped it would be painless.

Fred yelled as he brought the boiler back to throw it at Jean. Once she was gone, that will so everyone not to mess with the Blob!

Then out of nowhere, a laser blast shot Fred right in the back of the head, causing him to yell, and then drop the boiler right behind him. Jean looked up to see Fred rub the back of his head, and then roar angrily as he scooped up the boiler again and tossed it away like a broken toy.

A figure with red glowing eyes darted aside easily as the boiler has over its head. Jean saw the eyes, and thought it was Scott, but Scott couldn't control his blast without his visor. Someone else did it. Using her mind, she reached out to see who it was, and quickly opened them. "Rogue?"

Rogue, having dusted herself off, shot her shimmering red eyes right at Fred. "Leave her alone, you big yahoo!"

Fred angrily retorted. "Or what, girlie? Make me wear bad makeup?"

"Oh, before I'm done with you, you're going to need makeup just to hide the fact I've rearranged your ugly face!" Rogue opened her eyes wide, unleashing a destructive blast.

Fred held up and arm and shrugged off the blast. Bellowing, he charged at Rogue who evaded him easily, landing right on top of the boiler. Fred glared up at her. "You think those eyes of yours can hurt me?"

Rogue glared back. "I sure intend to try, but before I do, a friend of mine says 'hi!'" She then clapped her hands together and then slapped them against the boiler. Alchemic energy poured into the metal, changing it and shooting it out like a punch from Colossus right into Fred's face. Fred was sent sprawling, but before he could recover, another transmutation summoned a chain from the metal, wrapping itself around Fred's neck and dragged him right back to the boiler. Fred clambered to his feet, only to see a transmuted fist come right down onto the top of his head, smashing him into the ground.

Jean saw the entire thing from her seat. That was Jason's power! Her mental scan didn't reveal him to be anywhere. It was only Rogue and Fred, which meant only one thing: Rogue had drained Jason and borrowed his power.

Fred picked himself up, absolutely furious. While the attacks did no harm, they did fuel his fury. He looked up, only to find Rogue not there. Looking around, he spotted her standing a short distance away, pulling off her gloves. "Tell your friend to try harder, you wimp! You didn't hurt me at all!"

Rogue didn't seem fazed. "Didn't Mystique ever tell you what my powers are, you land-bound blimp?"

Fred ran towards Rogue, intending to flatten her. Rogue however was too fast, and dodged to the side, and the grabbed Fred's bare arm. Fred twitched uncontrollably as Rogue's powers did their devastation, and what terrified him more…was that it hurt.

"I can steal your powers, Shamu! And I can now use them against you!" Rogue followed it up with a good old fashioned judo throw, her enhanced strength allowing her to throw her clear across the room. She wasn't finished, as she followed it up with a blast from her eyes, veering the screaming Blob off course and into the wall. "And I can handle more than one!"

Jean was transfixed. They had all known that Rogue was capable of amazing power because of her ability, but she never imagined that just three borrowed powers would allow Rogue to take down what was supposed to be unmovable. What terrified her the most was that Rogue was capable of so much more. If she had all the powers from the X-Men as well as the other mutants at the Institute, she might be unstoppable.

Fred shook off his dizziness from Rogue's draining and stood right back up, unharmed by the whole event. "Ha, I have more power than you can ever take from me. You can't stop me; I'm the Blob!"

Rogue stood her ground. "All you are is a smelly garbage bag of shit who wanted to steal a date, and I'm not about to let you get you way. I'm taking you out, now!"

Fred roared as he charged at Rogue, but Rogue was ready. She clapped her hands together and transmuted the floor to shoot straight up, sending Fred soaring. "Now take this and get lost!" She opened her eyes as wide as she could, firing an intense blast into Fred, sending him straight through the ceiling. Fred screamed as he flew through the air over the docks. Finally gravity took control again and sent him flailing onto a docked jump ship populated by gulls eager for a meal. He landed with a sickening splat into the piles of smelly dross, the gulls cawing at him as he had interrupted his meal.

Fred picked himself up, unharmed but covered in garbage from head to toe. He heard the gulls and immediately flew off the handle. "STOP LAUGHING AT ME!" He picked up a slashed tire and tossed it at the flying birds, but as he did, he tripped over the trash around his feet, sending him right into the trash again. The gulls continued to cry at him, and all he could do is lay there and cry as even the animals laughed at how much of a failure he was.

* * *

><p>On top of an old marina, a white-haired figure had watched the spectacle from afar, and had only just recovered from his laughing fit as he saw the bloated body of Blob soar through the air and into the junk. "Oh, wow! I hate the X-Men as much as the next guy, but that was just too good for me to miss!"<p>

Suddenly, a communicator chirped on him. Picking it up, he heard Mystique's voice on the other side. _"I assume everything is under control now, Quicksilver?"_

"You betcha, boss lady," Quicksilver replied. "And you can bet that Blobby won't be joining the X-Geeks anytime soon. He just got kicked in the cajones by Rogue, right after Marvel Girl or whatever they call her gave him the kick out the door."

Mystique didn't share Quicksilver's humor of the situation, but in the end, the mission was a success. Mystique was aware of Jean's recruitment efforts after Jason and Wolverine had failed in Texas, and she intended to stop it…but it seemed that intervention was unnecessary, and Fred's passions drove the wedge between them.

"And you know something else?" Quicksilver added.

"_What?"_ Mystique said impatiently.

"You know that scarred kid, Jason whatchamacallit? He wasn't here at all."

"_What!"_ Mystique said in surprise. _"Are you sure?"_

Quicksilver looked insulted. "Yeah, he wasn't even here, and nowhere to be seen."

Mystique quickly ordered. _"Quicksilver, run to the mansion and verify that he is there."_

"Why?"

"_Just do it!"_ Mystique barked.

Quicksilver took off without a second question.

* * *

><p>Back at the boiler house, Rogue sat outside by Wolverine's and Cyclops' unconscious bodies while Shadowcat, Nightcrawler and a recovered Colossus were working to get Jean out of the chair. She had elected to remain outside to make sure these two were both okay; after all, they took quite a beating from the Blob.<p>

She looked at Scott, just lying there. She had taken only a little bit of his power, but it didn't take much to knock a guy out. She hoped he didn't hurt him; after all, on her own recruitment mission, Scott was there to help her a lot when she was confused about her powers, after accidentally draining her at-the-time boyfriend Cody back in Caldecott, and his memories muddied hers so much that she didn't even know who she was.

It was quite the back and forth with her at that time. At the same time, the shape-shifter Mystique had mimicked different members of the team to confuse her and drive her away from the X-Men, but when Mystique was imitating Scott to scare Rogue, the real Cyclops had found them both and instantly opened fire on Mystique-Cyclops. Scott fended off Mystique just long enough for the rest of the team to join him and drive Mystique away.

Ever since then, Rogue felt like she owed Scott big time, and over those months, she even began to develop feelings for Scott. However, her own insecurity because of her powers drove her away, afraid to touch Scott in case she hurt him like she did Cody. She never did find out if Cody survived that one touch, and she wasn't sure if she wanted to know.

How do you tell someone you care about them when you can't even come close to him? That was the question of her life ever since her powers manifested, and as far as she could see, there was no answer to that question. Not many people understood the plight she had, the new kid Jason being the most recent, and it was a terrible curse to bear. Her powers were useful only in battle and little else.

Then she realized something: Scott had no control over his optic blasts himself, always relying on ruby-quartz glasses or his visor of similar make to allow him to see without searing off the face of anyone he looks at. More or less, he knew her pain better than anyone else because he could relate. She had once overheard that the likelihood of him taking control of his powers were basically destroyed because of a brain injury he had taken as a child. She never had inquired on that injury, but she had heard that he didn't want to talk about it…just like how Jason didn't want to talk about his own scars.

As she sat there, she considered this recent revelation in how it seemed she had more in common with her teammates than she initially thought. Ever since she arrived, she had basically stayed out of the way of people and kept to herself; only other person who did that was Piotr, but he was a bit of a special case in that regard, although she didn't know why. She never looked beyond herself to see things in her teammates and "friends" that she shared with them. In fact, it was only until very recently did she begin to see, and it started with the time she had to drain a scared spit-less kid on a hospital roof. Even then, she wasn't sure she was ready to just open up to people beyond how far she had already opened up, and that was mainly to Jason. As she looked at Scott and his uncontrollable power, she began to wonder if she could at least start to share with him.

Scott suddenly moaned, startling Rogue out of her thoughts. "Scott, are you okay?"

Scott blinked underneath his visor. "Uh…what happened?"

Rogue helped Scott up to a sitting position. "Blob tossed Logan into you, and that knocked you out."

At that, Scott started awake. "Wait, where's Blob? And Jean?"

Before Rogue could answer, a voice interrupted her. "I'm okay…"

Scott looked into the boiler house and saw Jean, being escorted by Kitty, Piotr and Kurt. "Jean, you're okay! I was so worried."

Jean flecked a lock of auburn hair out of her face. "I'm fine; a bit shaken up, but fine. But are you all right?"

"Yeah, you know me! It takes me than that to bring me—" Scott tried to stand up, but vertigo still had control of his head and he wobbled back down to his hands and knees.

Jean crossed her arms. "I can see."

Rogue finally admitted, "I'm sorry, Scott. I had to borrow a low-dose of your power from you."

Scott rubbed his head. "That explains a bit." He looked at the others. "Thanks for helping."

"Hey, don't look at us!" Kitty said.

Kurt added. "_Ja_, the Blob was already gone when we got here!"

Piotr rubbed his head, as if ashamed that he lost the fight to Fred. "I am afraid I was already…out of the game?"

Scott's brow furrowed in confusion. "But then who took out Blob?"

Everyone looked at Rogue.

Scott then zeroed in on her. "Just you?"

"I didn't have a choice," Rogue said. "I had to take him down before…well…you know."

Jean then asked. "That reminds me, Rogue. I saw what power you used in there…and I couldn't help but notice a certain 'transmutation?'"

"'Transmutation?'" Scott repeated; then it clicked. "Rogue, you took Jason's power?"

Rogue looked guilty. "It was his idea."

Jean was a little lost. "But why did you have to? Why isn't Jason here?"

It was Scott's turn to reveal. "The Professor was adamant he remain behind." He then looked at the others. "Did any of you know about this?"

Kitty, Piotr and Kurt looked at each other, confusion on their faces as well. That told Scott alone that the only ones who knew were Jason and Rogue. Scott looked down, "Looks like we need to talk to the Professor about this."

Rogue added, "Yeah, we could have used Jason here. He could have held Blob at bay long enough for us to get Jean out without a problem."

Piotr finally spoke. "But you were able to do it on your own."

Rogue looked strangely at Piotr. "I had Jason's powers, tinman. He gave them to me because he thought we might need him…and we did."

The implications weighed in heavily on Scott. Twice now, Jason had proven himself in showing himself resourceful in dealing with things keeping him from fighting alongside the X-Men. He stood his ground against Sabretooth and even dealt damage, and this time he trusted Rogue to use his power to act in his absence. Of all the new students at the Institute, Jason was quickly rising in the ranks to become the newest X-Man, a fact that he was sure the Professor was aware of. Jason wanted to help Jean, but was not allowed to, but found a way around it successfully, and he did help Jean in the end through Rogue.

Kitty said it for all of them. "Ok, you know what? After today, we like totally owe Jason now."

"Yeah…we do," Scott said.

Suddenly, Wolverine stirred from where he laid. He rubbed his own head and he sat up. "Ok, that's why I hate fighting kids. I'm way too nice…"

All had to bite their tongues to keep from laughing. Eventually all of them made their way to their vehicles to go back to the Institute. Doubtless there was much to talk about.

* * *

><p><em>Undisclosed location – 8:03 PM<em>

"You are sure about this?" Magneto said.

"_Absolutely, father,"_ Quicksilver said on the other end of communication. _"He was still at the Institute, and nowhere near Blob and the others."_

Mystique added on Quicksilver's end. _"Moreover, Alchemist gave his powers to Rogue so she could use them in his stead."_

Magneto looked thoughtful as he analyzed all that he heard. Alchemist had been barred on going on a mission, the first mission that had come his direction as well, but Jason had bypassed it by using Rogue. He knew Charles; the only reasons why Charles would ever withhold a member of his X-Men off from a mission—barring illness—is for punishment…or because of fear.

"We may be able to use this to our advantage; for now, both of you keep an eye on young Alchemist. An opportunity will soon arise for us to make our move."

"_Is this punk really worth the effort?"_ Quicksilver quipped. _"He's a freaking pansy for God's sake!"_

Magneto's eyes narrowed underneath his helmet. "Silence, Pietro. His power is beyond anything you can fathom, and his gentle nature is only a small byproduct of Charles' influence on him. He can be retrained, unlike your complacency."

Quicksilver looked annoyed, but held his tongue.

Magneto then closed communication without a farewell, and pulled up the dossier on Alchemist to study it. _"So, dear Charles, what are you afraid of?"_

* * *

><p><em>Xavier Institute for Gifted Children – 8:12 PM <em>

Jason and Rogue sat on a couch opposite of the Professor in his study to discuss the happenings of the mission. After they had arrived, Scott had reported in to the Professor about the mission, and how Blob was dealt with. Very soon after that, both Jason and Rogue were called up to the study.

"Scott has informed me on just how you were able to get Blob out of the way, Rogue," the Professor said. "In particular, your use of a certain borrowed special ability."

Jason pursed his lips. He had expected that this would come up even before he made the suggestion to Rogue. "It was my idea, Professor."

The Professor looked at Jason. "Why did you do it?"

Jason looked a little bit pained. "It wasn't about being left behind…not really. Jean was there for me at the hospital, and I wanted to be there to help her against Fred. When you barred me from the mission, I felt like my hands were tied when I wanted to help. So…I asked Rogue to borrow my power, so I would be able to help…sort of."

Rogue intervened. "It's true, Professor. I wasn't even expecting to use Jason's power so I borrowed Scott's as well…just in case."

The Professor folded his hands together. "Jason, no one ever doubted your heart, but when I told you to remain here, it was only because you had not met the requirements to join the X-Men on regular missions. That is why you continue to train. Granted, you have progressed further and faster than the others waiting in line, but until you pass your training, you cannot accompany the X-Men on missions unless I specifically request you to. Be assured; once in a while I will ask you to accompany the X-Men on the mission when I believe you are ready. Eventually, we will ask you for a spot on the X-Men when we see you show the courage, the aptitude and the loyalty required. Understand?"

Jason didn't say anything momentarily, but then he nodded. "Yes, Professor."

The Professor half-smiled. "If it's any consolation, you did show some initiative, just like with Sabretooth. But next time, it would be best to inform me ahead of time."

Jason half-smiled himself. "Thank you, Professor."

"You are both dismissed."

Rogue and Jason left the Professor alone in his study and walked down the hall. "Well, that went better than I expected," Jason said, just before he rubbed his side.

Rogue didn't appear to notice. "At least he wasn't against the idea."

"True enough, but I suppose it was a little preemptive of me." Jason looked thoughtful. "Have you seen Peter at all? I heard he took a pretty hard hit."

"I think I can answer that question myself," said a familiar voice.

Jason and Rogue looked up to see that Piotr had been waiting not too far outside. Jason smiled a bit; he should have seen this coming.

"Okay, allow me to reiterate: how are you feeling, Peter?"

Peter half-smiled himself. "I have small headache, but I am good."

"Good, then you'll be ready next time you face—" Suddenly, Jason lurched a bit, hugging his abdomen.

At once, Piotr asked concerned. "Are you all right?"

"Yeah…sort of," Jason groaned. "I just…need to find a bathroom." Jason dashed away to the nearest bathroom.

Piotr and Rogue could only look after him. Rogue finally explained, "When I drained him, Jason was found by Mr. McCoy and he took him to the infirmary. Jason told me that he pretended it was indigestion and…" Rogue had to stifle a laugh. "…Mr. McCoy had Jason drink some milk of magnesia. He'll be fine once it gets out of his system."

Piotr blinked and looked towards where Jason ran, and smiled a bit. Poor Jason.

* * *

><p><em>And there we have it. This chapter took me a little bit longer to do but ultimately I like the way it turned out. I had a variety of inspirations here. As you can clearly tell, this is based off of <em>_Episode 4: Mutant Crush__, but another key inspiration was Susan Boyle's audition on _Britain's Got Talent_, which was one of the most surprising and wonderful things I've seen on that show. I used the crowd reactions to that to really help me fuel that._

_And now, a brief Q&A. _

_Ibnuub writes__: __**"Gotta ask! Are you planning to put in other characters into your story aside from the ones in the Evolution-vers."**_

_Count on it. In the last chapter, Ghost Rider made a cameo appearance, but as Jason's life at the Institute continues, we'll meet some other heroes. More than likely, we won't see any non X-Men heroes or villains in this work, but in the next work, certainly. I will add that Spyke from _X-Men Evolution_ will not make an appearance in this work. _

_Feel free to ask any more questions, and I'll answer them in the next entry._

_And now a preview for the __Chapter 5: Mutant in the Middle__:_

_After an argument, Kurt storms off from the group, only to find himself in an abandoned lab on the school premises and sucked into a pocket dimension. As Kurt tries to get out, he meets with an old resident of the dimension, while on the outside, his friends try to get him out. Will Nightcrawler be able to escape limbo, or will he be barred from the girls' locker room forever? Stay tuned until next time!_


	6. Chapter 5: Mutant in the Middle

**CHAPTER 5:**** Mutant in the Middle**

* * *

><p><em>Bayville High School – September 22, 2011, 9:23 AM<em>

"I'm honored that you've decided to come by," Ms. Darkhölme said to her visitor.

"You may dispense with the formalities, Mystique," said Magneto. "I'm not here for any student body meeting. I am here to discuss Alchemist. Word has reached my ears that Quicksilver has been repeatedly antagonizing him."

Mystique pulled out a file on Jason, and looked through its contents. "Yes, there have been repeated confrontations between the two for the past two weeks. Mostly minor."

"Yes, but necessary. Pietro is under orders from me to test Jason to the point where we can see his true self emerge, and in addition to the spy programs we have placed within the Institute, I can watch Alchemist from wherever I wish. The results have been satisfactory."

Mystique folded her hands together as a cruel smile etched across her face.

"Alchemist has been quick to anger, and he feels that Charles doesn't fully trust him with his powers, despite his progress in his training both here and abroad. And the cold truth is his assumptions are correct. Charles fears the boy and his potential, just like how he had to contain the powers of Ms. Grey. Charles knows something about mutants with great power, and I intend to find out.

"In the meantime, Pietro will continue to probe Jason for a weakness that we can exploit. I fear we cannot use his parents for leverage as he has already defiantly stood up to me even in the face of an untimely death by his father. Yet Alchemist is a sensitive soul; he has his price.

Mystique then smiled some more. "Well then you may be pleased to know that Alchemist and Colossus have been forming a close friendship for the past month. They've become virtually inseparable."

"I am not surprised, but that is certainly a hook we may use when the situation arises. After all, Colossus will get his due soon enough."

Mystique throated a laugh. "Yes he will…"

* * *

><p><em>A few hours later…<em>

It was lunch time at the school, and today was an exceptional day to be outside. Many of the students decided—those that brought their own lunches anyway—decided it was a great day to eat outside and enjoy each other's company in the brilliant ambience of the noon-day sun. Just outside the gymnasium just in the shade of a large oak tree, Scott, Jean, Kurt and Kitty were enjoying lunch, but they didn't have to wait around long as they were joined quickly by a huffing Jason and a consoling Piotr.

Jason sat down curtly at the table. "I swear to God, one day I'm going to give Pietro a nice firm alchemic kick in the balls."

Jean's eyes narrowed. "Again?"

Jason rubbed his face as he answered, "Yes, again. He's made it his personal mission to piss me off, and so far, mission successful."

Piotr, sitting next to Jason, tried to calm him down. "I told you about him, Jason."

"Yeah, you did. How the hell did you put up with it?"

Piotr looked remorseful. "I didn't."

Jason knew better not to ask the details; Piotr's past was private, and he wasn't one to share that with just anyone. Jason knew some but a lot, and that was only because Piotr told him.

Kitty wasn't so reserved. "Wait, you like knew that jerk before, Peter?"

Jason quickly intervened. "Kitty, all of us have no-go areas. My scar is one, Rogue's no-touching and Peter's past are others. Besides, it really doesn't matter. Pietro is nothing more than what you called him: a jerk…whose ass I wish to kick."

Jean looked condescendingly at Jason. "Jason, you know that won't solve anything."

Jason regarded Jean for a brief moment, but then relented. "I know; it's just so hard. I can just feel that one day, he's going to dig deep enough for me to totally wig out."

"That's what friends are for, Jason," Jean reassured, and then added telepathically to both Jason and Piotr. _"Something I'm sure Peter would be delighted to help you with."_

Piotr tried not to blush, while Jason side-eyed him but said nothing about it. Instead, he changed the subject as he drank his carton of milk. "So, were y'all talking about anything when I brought the dark cloud over?"

Kurt spoke up. "Just Duncan's party!"

"Like Jason ever wants to talk about parties," Kitty teased.

"Well, I don't think there are any incoming hurricanes to celebrate, so I'm cool," Jason said. "When is it?"

"Tonight," Jean asked. "And it wouldn't hurt if a _certain person_ was there with you guys." She glanced at Scott, who remained silent.

Jason didn't appear to notice, but only smiled. "You make it sound like you're going to make us go…"

Jean smiled mischievously.

Jason quickly thought loud enough for Jean to hear. _"Don't even think about it."_

Scott was less than thrilled. "Party at Duncan's? Count me out."

"Hey, that's my line!" Jason objected, as he tried to drink from his empty carton. "Anyone have milk to spare?"

Jean pushed her carton to Jason. "Have mine." Then she turned to Scott. "Come on, it might be fun."

Scott wasn't so convinced. "No offense, Jean, but Matthews is a jerk."

Jason took the time to take a swig of milk before answering. "He's the class jock; that's in the job description. What did you expect him to be, a philanthropist?" Jason looked at the carton he just finished. "More milk, please?"

"Come on, guys, he's so not a jerk!" Kitty added, pushing her own milk to Jason. "I'd go."

Scott looked at Kitty. "No freshman allowed."

Kitty scowled. "God, Duncan _is_ a jerk."

Scott continued, "Half of the school will be there already, so it's going to be crowded. If Kurt goes, what do you think is going to happen when they feel fur, holo-projector regardless?"

Kurt quickly responded. "Hey, chicks dig the fuzzy one, _ja_?"

Jason drained the new carton. "That explains their love of fur coats." Jason crumpled up the empty carton. "More milk, please?"

Kurt handed his to Jason, as Piotr had to ask. "Why do you drink so much milk?"

Jason pointed to his scar. "It's going to take a few years for all the cracks in my head to finally heal up, and I'm going to help it along." He then contended to drink his fourth carton.

"_Ja_, not like Jason's head wasn't cracked to begin with."

Jason narrowed his eyes at Kurt. "Hey, fuzzy one. Ever wonder what it's like to be wall-to-wall carpet?"

"I'm trying to be serious!" Scott said. "What if we go there and the Brotherhood shows up and wrecks everything?"

Jason glanced across the area to see where the Brotherhood boys were sitting with nothing but their attitudes. He sighed, "I hate to admit it, but Fearless has a point. Maximoff sees me at that party and there goes the neighborhood. Never thought I'd say it, but with them around, it kind of sucks to _not_ be the only mutants around."

Kurt grinned. "_Ja_, but we're the only cool ones!"

"Damn straight!" Jason said, taking a swig from his milk but found he drained yet another carton. "Geez, forget the cartons; I need a gallon of two-percent stat! Kurt, I'll give you five bucks if you port to the store and grab one."

Scott glared at Jason while passing him his own milk. "Drink it and be quiet."

Attempting to head off an argument, Jean asked, "Come on, Scott. What's wrong with just a little socializing?"

Scott sighed. "I'm sorry, but I don't think it's a good idea."

Kurt, however, had enough. "Dude, it's just a party! It's time to shake the tail, man!" Not hesitating, he leaped up on the table and danced wildly. "Party! Party! Party!" As he did, his tail somehow managed to peek out from the holographic aura and became visible.

Horrified, Scott pulled Kurt off the table with his tail. "See what happened? That's exactly what I'm talking about."

Kurt did not take the action kindly. "You-You pulled my tail!"

"That's not the point, Kurt!"

"Hey, lighten up!"

"You're always goofing around!"

"And you are cramping my style!"

"Grow up, Kurt! Listen—"

"No, _you_ listen! There's one sound I want you to here, and it's—" _**BAMF!**_ Kurt angrily teleported away, blasting Scott's face with his fumes.

Scott coughed and he waved the sulfurous fumes away from him. When he could finally breathe again, he saw that the others were looked a little condescending at him. Laying an elbow on the table, he sighed. "I just blew it, didn't I?"

One of Jason's eyebrows shot up. "Ya think?"

* * *

><p>When Kurt rematerialized, he found himself crashing into the biggest cardboard box pile he had ever seen, and most certainly the dustiest. Kurt rubbed his head as he pushed off various boxes off of his lean frame. "Ugh, I really need to work on my reentries."<p>

Kurt knew the specifics of his teleportation: if he sees in his head where he wants to go, and if that place is within a two-mile radius of his current location, he can teleport accurately to the spot he can clearly see. However, if he doesn't have a clear image in his head, or if his emotions are a too high to cause him to lose focus, his aim is often thrown wild and he ends up somewhere else where he didn't want. That was the case here: Scott had angered him enough that he missed his target: a wooded area near the school. Instead, he was now in some basement with dusty boxes lying all around.

Suddenly, a crackling noise caught his attention, and it sounded close. He looked around and saw nothing, but when he lifted his left arm, he noticed that his image inducer was shorting out as it took a nasty knock during the teleport. Alarmed, he noticed that his true self was now exposed: a blue-furred mutant with a long lean prehensile tail, tridactyl hands and didactyl feet; his lean body was dressed in a black-and-yellow uniform with flaring shoulders that contributed to a gold V-shape on his uniform.

"Aw, man!" Kurt said disappointed. "I can't believe I was this stupid!"

"Is anyone down there?" said a voice.

Kurt turned to see that a stairwell that led outside was right behind him…and someone was coming down the stairs to investigate. Horrified that they will see him, he looked around for a place to hide. He then spotted double-doors opposite of the stairwell and ran to them, noticing that a sign hung on the door saying "KEEP OUT!"

"_I'm declaring this an emergency!"_ thought Kurt, and looked through the dusty window enough to see the other side. Finding it empty, he promptly teleported.

Once he reemerged, he coughed in the dusty atmosphere; the dust was thicker in here than outside. "_Mein gott_, someone fire the custodian!" he choked. When the dust began to settle, he took a good look around in the darkness. Thankfully, his mutation allowed him to see in darkness better than most. As he did, he noticed that the room was much better organized than the one outside. No boxes, either; just a lot of computers…old-looking computers. Kurt opted to get a closer look at the computers, wondering why so many old computers were in the basement of the school…or he hoped it was the school. A blind teleport could have landed him anywhere in Bayville.

As he walked forward, he did not notice the motion sensor beam right at his toes and so he crossed right through it without even thinking to watch his step. Nothing happened for a few seconds, but suddenly all the computers turned on automatically. Kurt stood blinking in the light as he looked to see what looked like a high-school student of Native American origin on the screens.

The youth spoke, "Log entry: January 22nd, 1978. Greetings, trespasser, if you are watching this, you have five seconds until this laboratory self-destructs." He then smiled. "Have a nice trip!"

The screens instantly changed to a countdown timer, and immediately began counting down.

Kurt was horrified. Curiosity abated, he ran for the door as fast as his limbs could carry him. As the timer reached zero, he teleported away frantically.

* * *

><p>Rogue was curious, just a little bit. Just a few moments ago, she was enjoying the lunch period by reading <em>The Hunger Games<em> in the wooded area on the school grounds. Like everyone else, she was out to enjoy the weather, but at the same time, she was enjoying it in solitude. Between school, homework and Danger Room exercises, she didn't get a lot of time to herself.

Her plans for a quiet reading time today were shattered by a crashing noise in the nearby school basement. Looking up, she looked around and saw a cloud of dust emerging from the stairwell. Putting down her book, she walked slowly towards the stairwell. As she got to the top of the stairs, a pungent whiff of sulfurous fumes rose to greet her. Gagging slightly, she remembered only one thing that left those kinds of fumes.

Nightcrawler.

Still, she climbed down the stairs slowly. "Is anyone down there?" she called out. There was no answer. She climbed down further and pulled open the doors. She was immediately greeted by a cloud of dust that arose from the floor and all the boxes scattered around her. Coughing, she peered around the room to see what caused the noise she heard. Noticing that many of the boxes were damaged—some even looked sat on—clued her in that someone was definitely down here, and she knew who purely from the smell.

"Kurt?" Rogue said accusingly. "Stop playing around before the Professor grounds you for life."

Suddenly, an explosion blew out the doors on the far side of the room. Rogue dove to the side as a wall of smoke and debris rushed by. When the noise calmed down, she heard a familiar "bamf" sound nearby. Coughing in the smoke, she saw the outline of Kurt. "Kurt! What did you do?"

Kurt coughed himself. "I didn't mean to. There was a lab in there; someone booby-trapped it."

Rogue calmed down at the mention of a lab. "Lab?" Climbing to her feet, she waded through the smoke towards the now open doors. The light from outside illuminated a wrecked mass of computer hardware, strewn about violently. "Whoa…" Rogue could only say. Whatever the lab was for, it couldn't have been just for a simple school experiment. There were far too many computers in here for that. This was high-tech at the time.

"_I wonder what this was for,"_ Rogue thought. _"Guess there's no way I'm ever going to find out now."_

As she stepped forward, her foot kicked something lying at her feet. Looking down, she saw something that didn't look like anything she'd ever seen before, although it certainly reminded her of old sci-fi shows. Picking it up, she examined it closely: it was a rather ovular object with a rectangular lens on one side. Jetting out on two sides were two stick-like handles, where right within fingers-reach was a set of buttons on both side, none labeled. _"What kind of piece of crap are you supposed to be?"_ Rogue thought as she looked the gadget over more.

She was so focused on the doohickey in her hands that she didn't notice Kurt come into the room behind her. "What are you doing here anyway?"

Rogue turned to acknowledge Kurt. "What am_ I_ doing here? I should be asking _you_ that question, Kurt. At least _I'm_ not the one who blew the place up."

Kurt's gaze fell to the object in Rogue's hands, and his eyes flashed open in fear. "Don't touch that!" He grabbed at the handles.

Rogue held on, affronted at Kurt's actions. "Hey, elf boy! Who died and put you in charge!"

Both tugged at it for a few seconds when Rogue accidentally pressed a button on one of the handles. There was a powering up sound that got both of their respective attentions. Before either of them could react, the lens lit up and engulfed Kurt in a blast of energy, blinding both of them. As quickly as it appeared, it faded.

Rogue opened her eyes to look at the damage it had done, and found Kurt no longer in front of her. Utterly horrified, she tossed the gadget away like it had turned into a cottonmouth. "Kurt!" she managed to cry, and reached for the air where Kurt was standing. Brushing it over and over with her fingers, her senses finally confirmed her fears.

Kurt was gone.

* * *

><p><em>Limbo<em>

Kurt felt a body-wide tingling sensation as the energy from the gizmo wrapped him in some kind of energy field. He braced himself as the feeling washed over him and then past. When Kurt dared to open his eyes, he saw that the world around him was completely black and white. He was still in the demolished laboratory in the school basement, but the computers weren't destroyed. They were right where he saw them before they self-destructed, except they were lifeless.

Looking around, he saw no sign of Rogue. "Rogue? Are you around here?"

There was no answer. As a matter of fact, there was no sound at all; not even the subtle echo that always emitted when speaking indoors. Kurt left the laboratory alone and saw that the next room was completely empty: no boxes or even dust. The breeze that was outside when he left the others at the table was even dead. Everything was completely lifeless.

"_Where am I?"_ Kurt wondered. He ran outside and saw that the trees and grass were also black and white, petrified and lifeless, even fully decked with leaves and stalks. It was like time has frozen and sucked all the life out of everything around him.

"Hello?" he called out. "Is anyone here?"

No answer.

His heart started to speed up as a mild panic was commencing to stir up his mind. His eyes lay on the cafeteria doors and he ran to them with all haste. It was the lunch hour; there had to be students still in there! Throwing open the doors, he saw that it was completely barren. Even the tables and chairs were missing.

"Hello?" he called out again. Again, his calling went unanswered.

Suddenly, he saw something: ghostly images. Fading in and out every couple of seconds, they were the only sign of life—and color—in then entire room. He looked at them with a mixture of wonder and horror. Suddenly, he recognized some of the people showing up. They were fellow students at Bayville High. Horrified, he shrank back, hoping none of them saw his true self, but none of the ghost-like students seemed to notice him at all. He could hear echoes of conversation, but nothing audible.

Panic finally set in. _"Gott in Himmell, where am I__‽__"_

* * *

><p><em>Bayville High School, 12:45 PM<em>

In the nearby parking lot, a loan beetle was scurrying across the toasty concrete on its way to cooler terrain. While it liked heat, even a seemingly insignificant creature didn't care for hot feet. Surely there was some shade or some grass to hide in until the evening air cooled things down. It didn't have a very long time to live, so it better not waste time

Eyeing its every move was Todd "Toad" Tolanski, the school stinkpot who had earned his nickname well. Along with his smell, Toad was quite the leaper and acrobat, despite his gangly appearance. His skin was always pale and he always had a slouch to his posture as if his body was not design to walk or stand like a human would. Probably the most significant feature of all was his greenish tongue that could zap flies right out of the air, and with it came his insectivorous appetite.

Chuckling to himself, Todd licked his plague-infested teeth as he eyed the beetle. "Oh, yeah, this little guy will be so much more tastier than a plain ol' fly. Now, come to papa…"

A honking of a horn broke his concentration. Looking up, he saw a green convertible come right towards. Shrieking, he dove for the safety for the sidewalk as the car parked right on top of where he was standing earlier…as well as the beetle.

Dismayed, Todd wailed. "Aww, my lunch!"

The driver came out of the vehicle and glared down at Todd through her pointed glasses. "You are to stay away from this area, Mr. Tolanski!" Ms. Darkhölme said irately.

Todd knew better than to argue about his lost lunch with the principal, particularly this one.

Ms. Darkhölme decided to continue. "And if find even the smallest drop of slime on my car, you will be crunching homework in detention for life! Are we clear?"

"Yes, we're clear!" Todd yelped.

"Good, now get to class!" Ms. Darkhölme turned and left Todd alone.

Safely alone now, Todd merely griped, "Yes, yes, we are perfectly clear." He stuck his coated tongue out at his superior and slunk away. One of these days, he'd love to slime every inch of her car. The only thing that stopped him was that if he did, he would die a slow and painful death. Content to remain with his head, he chose to slink away into the bush, so to speak.

* * *

><p>Jason swapped out some choice books from his locker as he mentally prepared himself for his next class: <em>World History<em>. History wasn't one of his favorite subjects, but he knew he needed to keep his grade up in that class as well. He just wished they could finally get past Ancient Greece and Rome and be done with it. Hovering around the old empires for what seemed to be nearly as long as it took Alexander to conquer the known world was not an attractive concept.

After retrieving the books he needed for the next few classes, he turned to leave...but stopped. "Oh, hell…" he moaned.

In front of him was the lanky form of Pietro Maximoff, Jason's self-appointed bully apparently. "So, Scarface, you think you're ever going to get rid of me? God, after two weeks, you think you would've learned. You're more pathetic than I thought."

Jason glared at Pietro. "I'm going to ask you this nicely, only once, Pietro. Move aside…please."

Pietro smirked. "Oh yeah? What are you going to do if I don't?"

Jason had to bite his tongue to not answer that question directly. "Get out of my way, Maximoff," he growled. As he did, he attempted to step around.

Pietro was right again in his way as if he expected that move. "You just can't get the idea, can you?"'

Jason was nearing his boiling point. "Get the hell out of my way, Maximoff, or I'm going to—"

"_You're not going to do anything, Jason,"_ said a suggestive but pleasant mental voice.

Jason froze, and so did Pietro.

"_You're going to calmly stand aside as Mr. Maximoff suddenly remembers that he needs to get to his Biology class at a normal walking speed, and also conveniently forgetting that he won't remember running into Jason at this instance."_

At once, Pietro walked around Jason, muttering something about how he needs to go to Biology anyway. Jason could only watch him go, utterly confused. Turning back, he saw the reason right away. Jean was standing casually just around the corner, looking completely conspicuous. Jason had to smirk. Walking up to her, he said, "Thanks, I guess."

Jean merely looked at Jason. "I know Pietro is really getting to you, but you need to try harder to keep your cool."

Jason frowned. "Jean, he's been going at me non-stop for two weeks now! He's more persistent than a falling boulder!"

Jean's eyes narrowed. "That's what he wants you to do, Jason: get angry, get you in trouble. That's how bullies work. All they do is make you feel so bad that you end up doing something you will regret later."

"I know, but—" Jason then sighed. "You're right, but I really mean it, Jean. I can't hold it in much longer…"

Jean looked compassionately at Jason. "You just need to find a way to let it all out instead of bottling it all in. If you need to, we can always set up a special Danger Room session so you can blow off some steam."

Jason shrugged. "I guess…" He then half-smiled. "Or you can just mentally lobotomize Pietro and save us all the trouble."

"Jason!" Jean said admonishingly.

"Kidding!" Jason quickly replied, then walked away while mumbling, "Sheesh…"

* * *

><p>Rogue wasn't sure if it was a good idea, but getting rid of the thing that vaporized Kurt seemed like a pretty damn good one. A problem presented itself in how to transport the device; Rogue didn't want to touch it ever again. She rectified this problem with the aid of a broomstick through a loop on the device, keeping it away from herself. Ever so slowly, she climbed the stairs, carrying the device on the broomstick as if it was a cobra ready to strike.<p>

In what felt like forever, she made it outside and quickly located a nearby dumpster. Slowly and carefully, she lifted the broomstick upwards to deposit the device into the trash where it belonged. However, she failed to lift it high enough; one of the long handles snagged on the side of the dumpster, ripping it right off the broomstick. Rogue cried out in fright as she braced herself, all the while hearing the device clatter as it fell, before rolling to a stop safely a short distance away.

"Ooh, what's this?" said a gangly voice.

Rogue's eyes snapped open to see Todd Tolanski see the device at his feet, and to her horror bend down to pick it up. "Don't touch it!" she automatically blurted.

Surprised at the force of Rogue's voice, Todd hesitated. "Why not?"

"It…" Rogue then realized what she was about to say. Revealing a vaporized Nightcrawler to Toad of all people would certainly not be a boon for the team. Hardening up, she then said, "Never you mind! Just leave it alone!" She strode forward to pick up the device.

"Aww, did little Rogue get into some trouble?" Todd jeered.

Rogue scowled at Todd as she deposited the device into the dumpster. "You want trouble, swamp-rat? You touch that thing and you'll be in more trouble than that blue bitch can ever give you, ya hear?" With that, she turned away, rather quickly.

Todd scowled as she left. "What's with everyone, today? Is it 'Abuse the Toad Day'?" he mumbled, and then his eyes fell on the device in the dumpster. Casting a look at Rogue—now long gone—he reached in and took it right out of the dumpster without a second though. "Whoa, what is this thing?" Experimentally, he looked it over and grasped the handles tightly, his spindly fingers randomly pressing buttons.

Suddenly, the device kicked to life with a building whirr. Startled, Todd dropped the device with a yelp and leaped to cover. As soon as he did, a blast from the device enveloped the nearby dumpster, which blinked away into nothingness.

Todd's eyes bulged out in surprised, but then he grinned. "That was AWESOME!"

* * *

><p><em>Limbo<em>

In a cloud of brimstone, Kurt teleported into another part of the colorless world that looked like his school. Again and again he teleported to places he saw in his memories of the school, but every time he did, he was still stuck in a lifeless version of it, populated only by what seemed to be spirits of his classmates, all blissfully unaware of his presence. Kurt tried his best to calm himself as he tried to come up with more option. _"Ok, I can't teleport out of here, wherever this is. Come on, _dummkoph_, how are you going to get out of here? There has to be a way…"_

As more of the ghostly apparitions of his classmates past by around him, he instinctively shrunk to the walls, wedging himself into the corners of the lockers as if he was hiding from sight. His blue fur and tail were often a source of shame for him; when he was back in the Bavarian Alps where he came from, he was often shunned for his appearance. When he first arrived at the Institute, he was so ashamed of his appearance that he arrived fully clothed in a hooded coat that covered him from head to toe, the hood pulled over so far over that his face was completely enshrouded in shadow. While the others at the Institute had been more than accommodating to him—after getting over their own respective shock—it still took some time before he dared to walk among them without his image inducer. Many a time did Kurt wonder why he had to be born with blue fur along with his unusually-structured hands and feet. It would have been great if he was just a teleporter, not a scary-looking one.

Kurt let himself slide down the wall as more depressing thoughts went through his head. He knew he shouldn't think about things like that, but he couldn't help it sometimes. He was always reminded when he looked into a mirror. He only wished people that when people looked at him, they would look at the important part of him. _"'Man looks at the outward appearance.'" _Kurt remembered._ "Boy, was He right."_

As he sat there, he thought he heard a familiar voice. Looking up, he saw ghostly versions of Bobby Drake and Kitty Pride walk by, talking as they were heading for their next classes.

Bobby was speaking, _"What was going on at your table at lunch?"_

Kitty shrugged. _"Scott and Kurt totally got into it and Kurt stormed off; it was all about Duncan's party."_

Bobby rolled his eyes. _"Geez, Scott really needs to chill out. He's more uptight than my underwear."_

"_Eww, Bobby!"_ Kitty retched. _"Totally did not need to hear that!" _

"_You know what I mean."_

"_Whatever,"_ Kitty said dismissively. _"Sometimes Kurt needs to like know just when to quit."_

Kurt watched the two apparitions pass by with a sinking heart. He didn't mean to eavesdrop on that—he couldn't help it really—but he knew that Kitty was probably right. But he needed to laugh and good off! Being shunned by the majority of his life more or less had left him a little short of laughs, so he always tried to make some, often with mixed success. He needed to joke around; besides, it was fun!

Before he could finish his thoughts, a flash of light nearly blinded Kurt from above. Squinting, he looked up and marveled at this new appearance. "_Was ist das?"_

Suddenly, a dark object materialized from the light and fell towards Kurt at an alarming rate. Crying out in surprise, Kurt instinctively teleported away. Reappearing several feet away, he watched as the object crashed into the floor with a deafening crash. Once the dust settled, Kurt looked to investigate what just feel from the sky. "A dumpster?" he exclaimed. "What in _Himmel_ is going on here?"

* * *

><p><em>An hour later…<em>

Scott and Jean were walking down the hall to their next class, all the while talking about what happened at the table just a short time prior. "So, you think I should apologize to Kurt?" Scott said.

Jean replied, "What really matters is what you think. Do you think you need to?"

Scott sighed. "I don't know. You have to admit that he goofs off too much."

"So?"

"What?"

"So what if he does?"

Scott pursed his lips. "You know what might happen if any of us gets too careless."

Jean sighed. "Scott, Kurt knows that, and he _has_ been careful. What happened at the table was an accident."

"Yeah, I know. But it wouldn't hurt if he would just be serious for once in his life."

"And if he never is, will that be a good reason to lose a friend?" Jean then turned to continue onwards to class.

Scott didn't reply, but stopped where he was standing. Sighing, he knew that Jean was right. It seemed she always knew what to say to get him to stop and think about whatever he did. He wondered once in a while if it had anything to do with her telepathy, but whatever she did, it helped. That's what made Jean such a swell girl. Scott then frowned; her only flaw was that she was spoken for.

As he sullenly followed Jean to class, they came close to the men's restroom door which burst open. Two students that neither Scott nor Jean knew ran past them, their faces spelling terror. "Ghost! We just saw a ghost!" said one, while the other was belting out, "Blue and hairy demon! Run for your lives!"

As Jean watched them run, Scott growled. "Kurt, I'm going to kick your butt!" He stormed into the bathroom.

"Scott, wait!" Jean said, but Scott was already gone. Sighing, she waited patiently outside the bathroom, wondering what she should say after the fallout. Before she had time to consider, Scott rematerialized from the restroom, looking more perplexed than angry. That surprised Jean. "Not there?"

Scott shook his head. "No, but that doesn't mean anything. He probably just teleported before I could get to him." His eyes narrowed angrily behind his ruby-quartz shades. "He can't have gotten too far. Jean, find him and tell him to knock it off."

Sighing, Jean removed her backpack and put her fingers to her temples and mentally searched the school for Kurt. Room by room, hall by hall she searched. In only a few seconds, she searched the whole school including the grounds: Kurt was not here. Her cherry eyebrows sinking slightly, she searched further into Bayville. After a few seconds, she came up fruitless again. Confused, she tried one last time to find him, but this time focusing on the Institute. Perhaps he teleported home? A quick mental scan again came up empty. Opening her eyes, her look matched Scott's when he came out of the bathroom moments before. "That's strange," she said quietly.

"What?" inquired Scott.

"I can't find him anywhere."

"He's not at the school?"

"He's not _anywhere_." Jean affirmed. "I checked as far into Bayville as I could, and even the Institute. Nothing. It's like he doesn't even exist."

Scott looked even more perplexed. "Try again, he has to be somewhere."

"I'll try," Jean said, and shut her eyes, reaching out in her mind again.

"What's going on?" said a voice.

Scott looked up to see Jason walking up to them. "We're trying to find Kurt. Have you seen him?"

Jason blinked. "You too? I just ran into Tabitha on the way here and she told me Kurt missed fourth period."

Jean finally sighed. "I'm still getting nothing. I went as far as my powers can reach. He completely vanished."

That surprised Jason. "How far did you look?"

Jean rubbed her head thoughtfully. "The only place I didn't check was the ocean."

Jason looked around. "I haven't seen him since he stormed off at lunch."

"Same here," Jean reported.

Scott looked around himself, and then froze as he saw a few of the Brotherhood boys coming down the hall. "Maybe…someone did something to him?"

Jean and Jason looked to see where Scott looked, and Jason sighed. "Oh great…"

Leading the troublesome trio was Lance Alvers, a transferee from Kitty's old school, undoubtedly by Mystique. He had the ability to create seismic events, earning him the name "Avalanche." Behind him were Fred "The Blob" Dukes and Jason's tormenter, Pietro Maximoff.

Lance glared at Scott. "What are you looking at, Summers?"

Scott went straight to business. "Where's Kurt?"

Fred scoffed. "Yeah, like we'd tell you?"

Pietro's remark was typical. "Maybe Scarhead back there turned him into a throw pillow."

Jason glared fiercely at Pietro, but before he could respond, Scott grabbed Lance by his earth-colored vest and shoved him against the lockers.

Jean protested. "Scott, no!"

Scott ignored her. "I said, 'where is he?'"

Lance glared back. "Let go of me, Summers!"

Scott didn't let go. "I'm not going to ask again!"

Fred grabbed Scott by the back of his shirt and pulled him off of Lance. "Get lost, Slim!"

"Put him down!" demanded Jean.

His volcanic-like temper aroused, Lance barged in between Fred and Jean. "Back off, Red, or I'll rock ya!"

Jason jumped in, fists bared. "Try it, Alvers! I'll be impressed if you can do it _after_ I turn you into the jellyfish you are!"

Pietro darted in right into Jason's face. "Witty comeback, Scarface. Did it take you all day to come up with that?"

Jason saw red. "Get out of my face!" He swung at Pietro, who effortlessly stepped back.

"God, you're slower than my grandmother!"

Unnoticed by everyone there, a crowd was gathering all around them, all eager to watch the brewing fight. As each side was sizing the other up, chants of "fight, fight," rolled through the crowd. Any moment now, they would tear each other a good one!

"What is going on here?" came a harsh authoritative voice.

The Red Sea couldn't have parted faster; the student body dissolved as Principal Darkhölme marched in and at once saw the reason for the ruckus.

Fred spoke first, dropping Scott. "We weren't doing nothing."

Lance at once cast the blame. "Scott started it! He just went completely ballistic without a reason!"

Scott brushed himself off. "Oh, I got a reason, all right."

Jean intervened. "Scott—"

"Quiet!" Ms. Darkhölme barked. "Mr. Summers, Ms. Grey, Mr. Downs, report to my office, now!" She turned her back on the would-be brawling teens and strode away.

Scowling, Scott sighed…then reluctantly followed Ms. Darkhölme, followed by Jason and Jean. Jason managed to glance at Pietro, who flashed him a crude gesture. Jason had to count numbers mentally to keep himself from giving the scrawny guy the best shiner in existence. All ignored the chortling of the Brotherhood as Ms. Darkhölme led them away.

* * *

><p>Toad was feeling industrious today, thanks to his new found toy. He thought that the principal's office was looking a little cluttered, so he decided to clean the place up…all of it. Chortling, he aimed the device at the bookshelves, and fired. He watched as the bookshelves—books included—dissolved into thin air. "See the bookcase? Bang! Don't see the bookcase." He turned his attention to the desk. "See the desk?" He fired the device with predictable results. "Bang! Don't see the desk."<p>

The next to go were the chairs, and then the rug. In a matter of seconds, the entire room was cleaner than it ever has before. "So, Ms. Boss-lady, I hope you like your new clean-office policy," he chortled.

Suddenly, he heard voices outside the door. That could only be one person. Toad immediately hurled himself out the open window, escaping what he imagined would be a terrible death.

Just seconds later, the door opened, admitting a cross Ms. Darkhölme, leading a sullen trio of the Institute students. "I don't care how much interest Professor Xavier has with the school board. That doesn't mean you are at liberty to—" She looked into the office, and shrieked. "_**WHAT?**_"

Scott, Jean and Jason looked in. Jason said it best. "What the fuck?"

Ms. Darkhölme angrily whirled about and ran past them. "Who took my furniture?"

Now alone, they all looked around. "What happened?" Jean asked.

"No idea," Scott said.

Jason looked around himself. "You don't think Kurt teleported the furniture out as a prank, do ya?"

Scott and Jean fixed Jason with annoyed glares.

Jason raised his hands defensively. "Ok, I guess not!"

Suddenly, all heard something that sounded like a whoosh outside the window. Curious, all ran to the window and looked down. All espied Toad firing some kind of device at a green convertible that Jason recognized to be Ms. Darkhölme's car. In a matter of seconds, the car vanished into thin air.

Jason clicked his tongue. "Damn, Toad's going to be in deep shit when Ms. Darkhölme finds out about that."

Scott pursed his lips. "She's going to have to wait for that. I bet he has something to do with what happened to Kurt."

Jean looked at Scott. "I think you're right."

"_GAAAAAAAHHHHHH!"_

All spun around at hearing a frightened scream, just in time to see a translucent form of Nightcrawler shoot past, and then fade away into nothing.

Jason was transfixed, and slowly asked. "Y'all saw that too…right?"

"Nightcrawler?" Scott ventured.

"Ok, just checking."

"Was that his ghost?" Scott asked.

"No," Jean said suddenly. "I was able to get a brief mental reading. He's alive and well…but trapped somewhere. He can't get out."

Jason looked out the window, just in time to see Toad hop away. "I think we'd best have a good long chat with the Toad."

"Jean, round up the others," Scott said. "Jason, come with me. We're suiting up."

Jason smiled. "About time."

* * *

><p><em>Limbo<em>

Kurt stood in the entryway of the basketball court, trying to refuse his frayed nerves. For the last few minutes, he was assaulted by falling furniture and even a green convertible. He teleported away each time it happened, even making a brief stop in the Principal's Office before teleporting away again.

Now he was here, confused and nervous. The complete silence of the place was getting to him, and he would give anything to get out now, even his mutation…which wasn't a bad idea now that he thought about it.

As he sat there, he heard footsteps coming up from behind him, and then a shadow appeared in the hall. Frightened, he teleported away instantly, and then reappearing on the wall to see who was coming. He clung there.

A figure stepped in, and right away he started coughing as the sulfurous fumes Kurt left behind made him gag. "Whoa!" he gasped. "Where did you come from?" he looked around. "And where did you go?"

Something about this new guy struck Kurt as different. He seemed all right enough, and even friendly. Maybe he should introduce himself. Leaping down from his perch, he landed several feet behind this boy.

The boy spun around, hearing the impact, and when he saw Kurt, his eyes bulged out of his head. "What are you, man?"

Kurt stood up, and smiled. "Relax, I'm just a harmless blue fuzzball." Kurt studied the stranger: he seemed about Kurt's age, average frame, and seemed to have some Native American blood in him, a fair bit actually. The way he dressed was a bit strange, and it reminded Kurt of old sitcoms on TV Land. But most importantly, something about this kid seemed familiar.

Then, it dawned on him. "Hey, I know you! You were on the computer screen in that locked up place, just before all the computers exploded."

The kid seemed to relax. "You found my old lab?"

"What was left of it. I only got to see a little bit of it before it blew up."

"Yeah, sorry about that. It was a safeguard I programmed in case someone was stupid enough to mess with it."

Kurt scowled, but smiled. "Thanks a lot. I'm Kurt Wagner, but others call me Nightcrawler."

"'Nightcrawler?'" The kid inquired. "Isn't that a worm?"

"Don't remind me."

The kid laughed; Kurt smiled himself. He kind of liked him. "Anyway, I'm Jonathan Silvercloud, but call me 'Forge.'" Forge studied Kurt closely. "So…what's with the Halloween get-up?"

Kurt brushed his fur with his hands. "No costume, this is the real me. I'm still human…kind of…but I'm also a mutant. I was born this way." Kurt looked down briefly. "I know I look really strange, but I'm still a fun guy! Besides…" Kurt smiled, and the teleported away with a bamf. Forge blinked, but then spun around as Kurt, grinning like a goon, rematerialized behind him. "I did get the deluxe package with this blue fur."

Forge's eyes lit up. "Trippy!"

"Yeah, it's pretty cool. Helps me get out of tight spots."

"Groovy, but that's not the cool part!" Forge said ecstatically. "You see, I thought I was the only one!" He then flexed his right arm, and it morphed quickly into a mechanical apparatus hosting many industrial gadgets like a welder, pliers, and many other tools.

"Wow!" Kurt explained. "You have more tools than a hardware store!"

"And it gets even better…"

"Really? How?"

"With my gizmo-know-how and your teleportation, we may just be able to spring this place. Come on, my workshop is this way!" Forge then took off down a hall. Kurt eagerly followed.

* * *

><p><em>A few hours later…<em>

Toad was on the run. Somehow, the X-Men found out he was holding a device that gave him the time of his life and now he was running for it through the park as the afternoon waned.

"There he goes!" cried Cyclops.

"On it!" Alchemist replied, clapping his hands together and slapping them on the ground.

Toad just barely avoided an earthen wall that shot up in front of him, but he hopped along, device in hand, trying to evade the X-Men in pursuit.

Scott fired a weak optic blast, just powerful enough to stun someone on impact. But Toad was too fast and hopped to the side. "Oh yeah? Take this!" He fired a blast from the device.

"Scatter!" Jean cried out.

All leaped to the side—save for Shadowcat who merely phased herself into the ground—and the blast hit a nearby water fountain, vanishing it completely, leaving only a spout of water from the underground pipes.

Alchemist swore, "Damn it! We gotta get that thing from Toad and fast!"

"Open to suggestions!" Iceman said.

"Can't you freeze him or something?" Alchemist called back.

"Can't get a clear shot, or you do you want me to freeze Fearless as well?"

"I'll get back to you on that."

"Focus, X-Men!" Cyclops said. "Get that gadget away from Toad!"

Toad whirled about and fired again. "Come any closer and it's bye-bye X-Men!"

Alchemist just barely dodged the blast as it hit a park bench. Jason whirled back around, clapping his hands together. "It's on, you stinking tadpole!" He slapped his hands on the ground again.

Instantly, the ground gave way underneath Toad, trapping him in a small pit.

"We got him!" Shadowcat exclaimed.

"Nice work, Alchemist!" Cyclops congratulated.

They all surrounded the pit, peering down into it. Cyclops took charged. "Listen up, Tolanski! Cough up the device you are holding, and I'll tell Alchemist to get you back out of—"

Suddenly, Jean shouted. "Look out!" She followed up with a telekinetic pulse that knocked everyone away from the pit. Just as everyone fell, a blast of the device shot upwards to the sky.

While everyone tried to get back on their feet, Toad easily cleared the pit and hopped on away. "See you later, X-Geeks!"

Cyclops got to his feet first. "Get him!"

And then the chase was on again.

* * *

><p><em>Limbo<em>

In a room nearby the gymnasium, Kurt stood hunched over on the worktable that Forge had assembled. Strewn across the table were all kinds of scrap, tools and hardware that Forge somehow would take and change it into something else using his cybernetic arm that seemed to change into any power tool Forge wanted.

All the while Kurt was here, he was going to ask how Forge got here himself, or even where was, but something told him that he shouldn't interrupt Forge as he concentrated. Just the same, Forge probably knew about this place and how to get out.

Just as he considered whether he should ask that question or not, a blast of light interrupted him, sending out what appeared to be a water fountain from a park. Kurt cried out in surprise. "_Mein Gott_, someone is giving that gizmo of yours a workout!"

Forge, who apparently was unfazed by the sudden appearance of walkway architecture, merely replied, "That 'gizmo' is called a transdimensional projector. It can send anything that gets trapped in its beam into another dimension, like this place. It was my science fair project back in 1978, but when I fired it up I got caught in the blast as well. That's how I got here."

"And where is here?" Kurt asked.

"It's some kind of pocket dimension, trapped between the fabrics of time and space in the third dimension. I call it 'Middleverse.'"

"'Middleverse'?" Kurt repeated.

"Yeah, I can build just about anything, but don't ask me to name things. But yeah, ever since that day, I've been trapped here ever since."

Kurt smiled a bit; he knew that feeling. Suddenly, a fact dawned on him. "Wait, did you say 1978? That was over thirty years ago! You still look—"

"—like I did back then?" Forge finished. "Yeah, I can't really explain it, but I'm guessing that Middleverse exists at a point in the third dimension where time doesn't do a thing. I don't age, I don't have to eat or drink, nothing. It's like living in limbo, but not quite. So, it's been thirty years?"

"_Ja,_ _mein fruend_. It's year 2011 now."

Forge looked down sadly a bit. "I knew I was here for a long time, but not that long. Anyway, when the accident happened, they shut down my lab and locked it away. Everyone got really freaked out when I vanished. They might even think I'm dead."

"But, if you were here, how did you know all that happened?"

"Have you seen any glimpses of other people walking around the halls?"

"Well, yeah…but they always faded in and out."

"Closer to the center of Middleverse—which coincides with where the lab is—we can see what's going on without 'fading in and out'. They can't see us, but we can certainly see them. The farther we go from the center, the more they fade in and out. It's also why we barely have seen anyone show up right here."

Kurt climbed down off the table and looked around the room. "So, there's no way out of here?"

"Not without help from the other side. I've been working for a long time with the junk that got taken with me to Middleverse, but I haven't been able to get out. However, with you and your teleporting powers, we just might be able to get out." Forge looked up and across the hall. "And tell you what; I'm ready to go home."

Kurt looked across to where Forge was looking, and espied a side entrance into the girls' locker-room. As he did, he heard laughter echo around the room. Kurt turned to see a pair of girls, coming back from tennis practice, laughing and giggling about different things. Kurt smiled as they passed him by and headed for the locker-room. They vanished just as they got within in a few feet of the door.

Kurt smiled. "So…just how far does this…Middleverse go?"

Forge didn't look up from his work. "Stops about two feet shy of that door to the women's locker-room."

Kurt frowned. "Aw, man!"

"Yeah, it's a real bummer." Forge made one final adjustment. "And there we have it!"

Kurt looked down at the result. It looked like a bunch of gadgets strapped to a harness. "What is it?"

"If I'm correct, your teleporting powers actually send you through other dimensions, but bring you right back to the dimension you teleport from. If I did this right, it should alter your phase-shift frequency of your teleportation power."

Kurt blinked confusedly. "Uhh…my English is a bit limited."

"You can use this to teleport back to the home dimension."

Kurt lit up. "Really?"

Forge quickly added. "But only for a sec." Forge picked up two batteries barely bigger than a standard AA-battery. "These do not have a lot of power. I guess you only have about two seconds before the power fades and it sends you back here. If we're lucky, you might be able to tell someone very quickly to reset the transdimensional projector and open up a portal so we can all go home."

Kurt nodded, but suddenly looked crestfallen. "Oh, man!"

"What is it?"

"I just thought of something." Kurt placed his head in his hands. "I really hope my friends don't think I'm joking."

Forge blinked in confusion.

Kurt smiled, laughing nervously. "I…kind of have that rep."

* * *

><p>"Give us that device, Toad, and we'll let you down!" Cyclops demanded.<p>

"Back off, before I blast ya!"

After a frantic chase, the X-Men managed to chase Toad up a lonely tree. The only way Toad could get down is to hop over the X-Men to the ground, but it also gave the X-Men time to gang up on him before landing. The X-Men surrounded the tree so Toad couldn't get down.

"Last chance, Tolanski!" Cyclops commanded. "Throw it down or I'll blast it from you!"

"You think I'm afraid of vaporizing you?" Toad said. "There's no way you're getting this from me!"

"I accept your challenge, comrade!" Colossus bellowed, just before slamming a metal fist into the trunk of the tree.

The blow shook the tree all the way up, shaking Toad so hard that he lost his grip on the branch and started to fall.

"Jean!" Cyclops warned.

"On it!" Jean reached out and grabbed the falling device telekinetically. Toad, however, was left tumbling to the ground.

As the device slowly lowered into Jean's waiting hands, Toad recovered himself. "That's it, I'm out of he—" He found himself yanked off of his feet, and staring into the featureless white eyes of an annoyed Colossus.

Alchemist came forward. "New deal, Toady. Tell us what you did to Kurt and we'll let you go!"

"I didn't do anything!"

Cyclops himself was getting annoyed, and raised a hand to his visor. "Do we look like we're kidding? Tell us what you did now!"

"He didn't do anything," said a quiet voice behind all of the X-Men.

All spun around and were nearly floored to see who it was. Alchemist answered first. "Rogue?"

Jean, still holding onto the device, followed up. "What happened?"

Rogue crossed her arms. "Let Toad go first."

All looked at Toad, who grinned sheepishly. Sighing, Cyclops said, "Let him go."

Colossus graced Toad with one more scrutinizing look, but ultimately let him go. Toad hopped away instantly. Alchemist looked at Rogue. "I have a hunch there's quite a story here."

Eventually, Rogue led the X-Men back to the old lab underneath the school where she ran into Kurt. By now, the school had long been abandoned as the sky turned pink from the setting sun. One by one, they all descended into the dark and dusty old laboratory, still littered with the computers destroyed by the explosion.

Jason coughed. "Wow, must have been quite the party here."

Scott asked. "Now, I guess you'd better start at the beginning."

Bobby laughed. "You'd rather her start at the end?"

"Can it, Iceman!" chorused a few of the others.

Rogue sighed a bit. "I found Kurt in here after I heard an explosion. When I came down, we saw that there was a lab that self-destructed. Pretty much, everything was trashed…except for that stupid thing Toad had. I was looking over it and Kurt tried to take it out of my hands. We fought over it and…I must have pressed something I wasn't supposed to and…" Rogue looked down sadly. "…I blasted Kurt with it. I didn't mean to!"

Jason smiled a bit. "I'm sure it was an accident."

Scott laid a hand on Rogue's shoulder. "Accidents happen. Now we can now try to figure out how to find out if we can get Kurt back or not."

* * *

><p><em>Limbo<em>

From the other side, Forge and Kurt watched in silence as they observed the X-Men back in the old lab. Here, their ghostly appearances were a lot more opaque and didn't waver like the others back in the school building had. They all watched in silence as Rogue retold what happened to the others.

Forge blinked when he saw the uniforms. "Who are these guys?"

"These are my friends, the X-Men. They are all mutants too like us."

"How many more of us are there?" exclaimed Forge excitedly.

"Too many to count, I'm afraid."

"_Hey, guys!"_ Kitty said. _"Bobby and I were running a diagnostic on this device Toad had."_

Bobby looked amused. _"Can you believe it? This thing uses CP/M!"_

Jason crossed his arms. _"And what's so special about that?"_

"_CP/M is short for Control Program/Monitor, or Control Program for Microcomputers,"_ Iceman explained. _"It was a mass-marketed operating system back in the late 70s." This thing is so old that the most RAM it ever had was sixteen kilobytes of it."_

"_Good grief, that's old,"_ Cyclops said.

"_I'm more surprised that Bobby is a computer geek. We are so screwed…"_ Jason sighed.

Bobby scowled, but before he said anything, Kitty spoke up. _"That's not the best part. This thing is not even off, not really. Even in stand-by mode, it's sending out some kind of low-energy pulses that seems to just vanish into thin air."_

Jason blinked. _"That can't be right. Energy doesn't just disappear."_

Piotr looked at Jason. _"How do you know?"_

"_It's the First Law of Thermodynamics: matter can neither be created nor destroyed; only transferred. Input always equals output. The same goes with energy. Even if the energy is unusable, it still exists and only fires away to continue on forever, or until it reaches the ends of the universe if such a boundary exists. If that device is sending out energy that 'disappears,' it has to be going somewhere we cannot detect."_ Jason stroked his chin scruff in thought. _"Perhaps another dimension?"_

Kurt and Forge blinked. Forge replied, "Wow, that guy is good."

Kurt smiled. "That's Jason, otherwise known as Alchemist. He might have a temper, but he's a good guy."

Bobby seemed to laugh. _"Yeah, and what are _you_ smoking, Jason?"_

Kitty seemed to refute Bobby. _"No, it totally makes sense! If the energy does enter another dimension, it might mean that this thing is actually some kind of projector that opens up portals to another dimension. Also, this thing might also be the source of the dimension, creating that dimension and trapping Kurt inside."_

Kurt could cheer. "You guys are awesome!"

Scott then shrugged. "Sounds like a simple fix, then. Let's trash the thing then."

Forge paled. "No, he got it all wrong!"

Kurt blinked in surprise. "What do you mean?"

"If he destroys the projector, we'll be trapped here forever!"

Kurt paled underneath his fur. "What are we going to do?"

"Quick, I need to hook up the phase-shifter to you so you can warn them!"

"Hurry!"

As Forge got to work setting up the harness, Bobby placed the device on a box that somehow survived the explosion. Scott lined himself up. _"Ok, you guys, you'd better stand back. I'm going to use full power on it."_

Kurt winced as he thought. _"Cyclops, don't do it!"_

Kitty interrupted. _"You guys like know that I could just phase through it and short it out quietly…right?"_

A good number of the guys in the room looked at Kitty strangely.

Kitty relented. _"Ok, I get it. Forget I asked." Quietly, she mumbled. "What is it with guys and huge explosions?"_

Jean scoffed in agreement.

Kurt began to sweat despite his fur. "Hurry, Forge! They're about to blow it up!"

Forge fastened one last buckle. "Done! This should work now, but I was in such a hurry putting it together—"

"_VERDAMMT_, JUST TELL ME HOW TO USE IT!" Kurt exclaimed hysterically.

"Push this button and teleport! Tell them to reset it, not destroy it! You got only a second before the battery dies, so make it quick!"

"Reset, not destroy. Got it!" Kurt pushed the button and promptly teleported.

Forge waited, trying to ignore the sweat dripping down his neck.

Scott had one finger on his visor when Jason spoke up. _"Is this really a good idea? We don't even know if the device even—"_

He was cut off when a light appeared on the other side of the projector from them. All watched mystified as a ghostly version of Kurt reappeared. Frantically, he shouted. "RESET, DON'T D—" and then he vanished.

At that instant, Kurt reappeared back in the Middleverse with Forge. Forge asked. "Do you think you got it?"

Kurt looked dismal. "I just hope they believe it."

The rest of the X-Men were transfixed at what they saw. Scott began really slowly, _"Uh…you all saw that too…right?"_

Rogue exclaimed. _"He's alive!"_

Jason looked at Rogue. _"You thought he was dead?"_

"_Doesn't matter,"_ Jean interrupted. _"What did he say?"_

Kitty shrugged, but Bobby stepped up. _"He said 'Reset, don't'. He must have meant 'don't reset it'. So, we can trash it! Do it, Cyke!"_

"_You are like obsessed, Bobby!" _Kitty said.

"_More than that,"_ Jason added. _"You got _that _from 'reset, don't'? This is Kurt we're talking about here, Bobby; not Yoda."_

"Who's Yoda?" Forge blinked.

"Someone from one of the _Star Wars_ movies," Kurt said a little ruefully.

"_One_ of them?" Forge exclaimed. "How many did they make?"

Forge didn't get his answer as Bobby argued back. _"Give me a break, Jason! I _was_ talking about Kurt, the joker? Or have you forgotten?"_

Kurt expressed his frustration loudly as Forge said, "Man, you really do have a rep."

Scott didn't look so sure. _"I don't know…it sounded more like a warning to me."_

Kurt looked up.

Scott continued. _"I know Kurt is a joker…but he does know better than to goof off when the chips are on the table."_

Kurt and Forge leaned forward, trying not to get too excited.

Jason then added. _"If Kurt really wanted us to blow up the thing, would he really have said 'reset, don't'? I don't know about the rest of you, but I don't think so…but you guys do know him better than I do."_

Kurt couldn't help himself. "Jason, Scott, you two and I are about to become really good friends!"

Scott surmised. _"You're right. That only leaves this: Kurt wants us to reset it instead of destroying it."_

"SCORE!" Forge and Kurt exchanged a high-five.

Scott picked up the device and looked around it at the various buttons, all the while being careful not to accidentally bump one on accident. Finally, he looked at the back where a control panel lay. _"Ok, let's see: intensity settings…power regulators…beam width…reset!"_ Scott laid the projector on the table again, and pressed the button labeled "RESET." Instantly, the device kicked to life. Scott stepped back as the projector fired a concentrated ray towards the end of the room. The beam widened, shedding light across the room.

All stared blinking into the light as they tried to see into the portal. Two shadows stood contrasting against the light, slowly becoming more visible. Finally, all could see who was standing just inside the power.

Jason noticed something right away. _"My God! There are _two_ people in there!" _

Scott called out to them. _"Come on! Teleport through, Kurt!"_

Kurt grabbed Forge as they could see the X-Men and home just a short jump away. "Come on, let's go!"

"We can't!" Forge pointed to the batteries. "There's no more power left! We need more batteries to jump through."

"Then let's get more!" Kurt said.

"I don't have any more; those were the only ones I had!"

Scott shouted back at them. _"What are you waiting for? Come on!"_

Kurt looked at Scott, and noticed something else. "Look!" He pointed at the portal, which was slowly collapsing.

"The portal won't last much longer. We need another power source now!"

Kurt gritted his teeth. They were so close now, and all that was blocking them was a battery! Suddenly, his mind remembered something. "Wait, I have an idea! Come on!" Kurt teleported both he and Forge away.

Forge felt a rush underneath his feet as Kurt's power brought them to the hallways of the school. "Wow, that was a groovy ride! But why did you bring us back here?"

"We need a new power source, right?" Kurt said, smiling.

"Yeah?"

Kurt pointed down the hall. "How about that?"

Forge looked down the hall to where a green battered convertible way, and his eyes lit up. "Far out!" His arm morphed into his tools and he ran for the car.

Kurt blinked as he went. "And I thought _my_ English was bad."

* * *

><p>Back in the old laboratory, the X-Men watched in confusion when Kurt and the new stranger disappeared and did not reappear back on this side of the portal. Jason couldn't believe it. "What just happened?"<p>

Scott was just as confused. "I don't know…but I hope they hustle! The portal is already closing!"

"There they are!" came a voice from behind all of them.

Jason's posture fell apart as he recognized that voice. "Oh, hell…"

All spun around to see that the four members of the Brotherhood were barring their way to the door. Leading the pack was Toad. "And they still have that vaporizing ray I told you about!"

Fred grinned. "Now fork it over, losers!"

Scott went all business. "The projector stays with us, end of story."

Lance grinned darkly. "Well then, looks like it time to rock this house!" He held out his hands, straining to unleash the seismic waves at his command.

Pietro sneered at Jason. "Looks like we're finally going to settle this once and for all, dweeb."

Jason gritted his teeth. "Bring it on, beanstalk."

Cyclops braced himself. "X-Men, keep the portal open at all costs!"

Lance stomped his foot down. At once, the room began to shake as the tremor hit. Alchemist clapped his hands together, "Oh, no you don't!" Slamming his hands into the ground, a blast of alchemic energy poured through the floor, neutralizing Avalanche's tremors instantly. "Seismic waves can be cancelled out just like any other energy wave. Might want to try something else."

Avalanche looked livid. "Get them!"

All four charged as the seven X-Men stood ground. Blob led the charge. "Come on, Slim! Hit me with your best shot!"

Cyclops raised a hand to his visor, but was interrupted by Colossus. "Very well!" Colossus smashed a metal fist into Blob's face, causing Blob to stop in his tracks.

Blob flushed as his temper roused. "Get out of my way, trashcan, or I'll flatten you like a pop can!"

Colossus didn't budge. "I remember differently; _you_ ended up as trash."

Blob exploded. "Don't make fun of me!" He swung at Colossus.

Showing unforeseen speed, Colossus ducked the punch, and retaliated with a quick but savage punch right into Blob's gut, which rippled from the blow. "Perhaps I teach you manners after I teach you how to fight like a man!" Colossus followed up with a left hook right into Fred's face.

Avalanche took his opportunity. "You think you're so strong, tin man? Then take a ride on the concrete coaster!" Avalanche slammed his foot down again. A massive seismic wave rippled the floor, knocking Colossus and Blob off their feet. Shadowcat, who was about to assist Alchemist with Quicksilver, got caught in it herself and was sent flying towards the wall. Thinking quickly, she phased herself right through the wall just in time.

Colossus tried to pick himself up, but Blob was already on top of him. Grabbing Colossus by the head, Blob hoisted him up. "Oh yeah? Why don't you try after I turn you into a garbage dispo—" Suddenly, Blob found himself sinking into the ground. "What? What's going on!" He continued to sink until he was up to his neck. Before he could protest, Colossus gained the upper hand, so to speak, and brought a fist down on Blob's hand to force him to let go.

As Colossus rose back up on his feet, Shadowcat phased up from the floor. "You know, Fred? You should totally stop eating so much. You know how hard it is to phase someone like you into the ground?"

Across the room, Rogue and Iceman were barring Toad form getting anywhere close to the projector. Toad didn't seem all that worried, despite the fact he knew that getting too close to Rogue was a free stay at the coma cottage. Leaping around them, taunting them, he said. "Come on! Come on! Show me what you got! You know what you got? You got nothing!"

Iceman raised a hand, unleashing a freezing blast of frigid cold at Toad, who dodged aside. Rogue whipped off a glove. "I don't want your slimy thoughts in my head, but I'm putting you down!" She charged and reached for Toad.

Toad saw it, and leaped over Rogue, causing her to stumble. Toad jeered as he made a dash for the projector. "Hey, thanks for the vape-ray!" He then shot out his tongue out, sending it to wrap around the handle.

But before it got far, a wall of ice shot up between him and the projector, and the tongue stuck fast to the ice. Toad shrieked as he found himself shooting towards the ice wall as his tongue retracted involuntarily. With a smash of ice, Toad fell to the floor, a chunk of ice still stuck to his mouth.

Iceman laughed. "I didn't think that old classic would work so well."

Meanwhile, Alchemist and Quicksilver were going one-on-one. However, Quicksilver was clearly demonstrating his speed. "Come on, Scarface! You can't hit me!" Alchemist swung at him, but missed. Quicksilver dashed around and shoved Alchemist right between the shoulders. Alchemist found himself sprawling to the ground. "Too slow! You know you're never going to catch me groveling in the dust."

Alchemist could feel the capillaries in his temples burst one by one as he glared savagely at Quicksilver. "You son of a bitch!" With one swift sweep, Jason threw himself back on his feet, facing his enemy…only to find he was no longer there.

Alchemist looked around for only a little bit. Suddenly, Quicksilver reappeared in front of Alchemist, but before he could react, he received a solid pound to the nose at quick speeds. Alchemist was back on the ground again, clutching his nose.

Quicksilver sneered. "Face it, Scarface, I'm better than you and always will be. And your little sparkle-fingers won't ever catch me."

Alchemist wasn't paying attention; he clutched his nose as if it was about to fall off.

Quicksilver milked it for all that it was worth. "Looks like you're finally learning your lesson, Alchy-dork." He side-stepped and kicked Jason in the ribs. Alchemist coughed as he rolled over on his back, revealing a gushing nose-bleed.

Scott was fending off Toad from getting too close to the projector, when he noticed Alchemist on the ground. "Jean!"

Jean looked up from distracting Avalanche and saw Alchemist immediately. "On it!"

Avalanche took advantage. "Not so fast, Red!" He summoned a quick localized tremor that shop to a mound of earth, knocking Jean out of the air and to the ground. "Your new guy is being taught a lesson in crossing the Brotherhood."

Quicksilver planted a foot on Alchemist's chest. "You know what I don't get? Why Daddy has such a big interest in you. You're just a little wimp! One hit and you're down." Quicksilver looked thoughtful. "Oh wait, two hits. What's so special about you?"

Alchemist finally opened his eyes and fixed Quicksilver with a glare. But then, he smiled. Quicksilver looked shocked. "What's so funny, Scarface?"

"You…" Alchemist wheezed. "…you fell for it."

Quicksilver blinked, when suddenly, Alchemist grabbed the lanky mutant's leg firmly. Quicksilver tried to pull it out of Alchemist's grip, but he held on like a vice. "Let go, you dork! Or you are looking for a broken rib?"

"Shut up and listen for once. Do you realize how close you are of losing a leg, Pietro?"

Quicksilver froze.

"While I was tending to my nose, my hands had connected, and now a transmutation is primed and ready for whatever I want. I'm sure your Daddy has told you about how I blew up Sabretooth's face. I can do the exact same thing to your leg, but unlike Sabretooth, there's no growing it back, right?"

Quicksilver didn't say anything, but his slowly widening eyes told everything.

"It would be so easy; after all the shit you pulled on me, this would be the last laugh I could have. Quicksilver, the fastest mutant alive, made lame by a dork. Would that just burn?" Alchemist glared at him. "I think I made my point."

Alchemist released one hand and slapped it against the floor. With a crackle of alchemic energy, a slab of concrete rose up and slapped Quicksilver in the back, sending him head-over-heels and over Alchemist, crashing into the boxes. Alchemist rose to his feet and looked at Quicksilver. "Get up, Pietro and try your luck again!"

Iceman whistled. "Now that's how it's done!"

Avalanche was shocked to see Quicksilver wiped out so easily, but he refused to give up. "Oh, yeah, Downs? How about I give match that nose of yours with a few broken—" He found himself yanked off the floor with by an invisible force. Looking, he saw a rather angry-looking Jean.

Jean merely threw him into the wall and lowered herself down to the floor wordlessly. "Not on my watch, Lance."

Scott saw that the battle was going well, but he knew this was only a delaying tactic. He looked at the portal and saw that it was going to close real soon. If Kurt didn't get back in time, this would all be for nothing. _"Come on, Kurt. You know what's at stake, so make it happen…"_

* * *

><p><em>Limbo<em>

In a matter of minutes, Forge had taken the harness that Kurt had worn and applied it to the twelve-volt battery in the convertible. Forge knew he needed to be quick, but precision was a must here. One mistake and this would fail completely. Still, there wasn't a lot of time so he needed to be quick. "Ok, that should be the last one."

Kurt teleported into the front seat behind the steering wheel. Starting the car up, he called out to Forge. "Get in!" As he watched Forge climb in, he had to ask. "Are you sure this will work?"

"I double-checked everything; it should be just like the old version. I had to make a few adjustments…"

"But will it work?" Kurt asked earnestly.

Forge sighed. "No."

Kurt swallowed. "_Wunderbar_," He then grinned. "Looks like there's no time like the present to find out. Let's go!" He floored the gas and the car jetted forward. Then, Kurt teleported, taking Forge and the car with him.

* * *

><p>The portal continued to shrink as the battered X-Men stood their ground, while the Brotherhood, battered but still kicking, continued to press. Blob, long having dug himself out of the ground, came closer. "All right, I have enough of warm-ups. Now I'm really going to smash you a good one!"<p>

Quicksilver, having lost a little bit of his cockiness, glared daggers at Alchemist. "And I'm not going to go easy on you this time."

Alchemist braced himself. "Neither will I."

The Brotherhood charged again, and the X-Men held their ground. Suddenly, a car horn peeled through the air, freezing all of them. Toad piped up first. "What was that?"

Alchemist was equally surprised. "Was that a car?"

The car horn honked again, and all looked at the portal, now almost completely shut. Suddenly, a dark shadow formed and quickly grew. Suddenly, two lights appeared on it, one on each end…lights that looked suspiciously like headlights.

Jean saw what it was immediately. "Watch out!"

The rest of the X-Men leaped to the sides, and just in time; the portal swelled up and spit out a speeding convertible barreling out of control. Blob's eyes shot open in surprise, but then he braced himself. The rest of the Brotherhood hid behind him. The car smashed into Blob's mass hard enough to make his fat ripple, but not enough to make him move. The car stopped flat at Blob's feet.

Blob looked down at the car, the front part practically caved. "Huh, good thing I'm the Blob," he said rather weakly.

Toad peeked around the pyknic form of Blob. "Yeah, you said it."

Avalanche, seeing he was ok, grinned. "Well, now we can get back to getting our hands on that gizmo and finally get rid of you X-Men!"

Alchemist blinked at Avalanche, and then reached down to something at his feet. Picking it up, he held it up. "You mean this gizmo? Sure enough, it was the projector, severely damaged. Apparently, the car had smashed it beyond repair.

Toad moaned. "Aw, man!"

Avalanche growled. "Fine, you win this time, Downs. But next time, we'll kick your sorry butts out of town!"

With that, the Brotherhood left the X-Men and the new arrivals alone in the basement. Meanwhile, in the car itself, Forge rose his head from the deployed airbags. "We made it!"

Kurt rose up from his own airbag. "_Ja, __Gott sei dank_."

Forge began to fondle them. "What the heck are these things?"

Kurt pounded his airbags as they began to deflate. "Reentry cushions! Cool, huh?"

Forge was mystified. "Yeah…" Then his face wrinkled up. "Do they usually stink, though?"

By then, the X-Men joined the two at the car. "You're like okay!" Kitty exclaimed, giving Kurt a firm hug.

"Geez, you fuzzy elf, can't you stay out of trouble for just one minute?" Jason quipped.

"Ja, sorry." Kurt then took a second look at Jason. "Uh, Jason. You're bleeding."

Jason's brow lowered in annoyance. "I know."

* * *

><p>The sun had already set and the entire crew had long abandoned the old lab along with Forge. Now they were all out at the park in the warm summer evening, most of them talking to Forge around Scott's red convertible. One, however, sat by himself on a nearby park bench, working on what appeared to be a digital wristwatch. After changing back into civilian wear, Jason offered to try to fix Kurt's image inducer. He was hoping that what caused the short was just a simple break, one that could be easily fixed with alchemy. Illuminating the inducer with a flashlight, he closely studied the surface for any cracks in the face or elsewhere.<p>

Jason smiled. _"There's Waldo,"_ he thought as he saw a small crack in the siding along the band, pinching on a couple of wires. _"Should be easy enough."_ Clapping his hands together, he held up the watch as his power tucked the wires back into the inducer and sealed the plastic surface as if it never broke. Picking up the flashlight again, he looked over his handiwork. _"Looks fine now. I guess the only way to see if it works if Kurt gives it a shot."_

Suddenly, he heard footsteps walking up to him. Looking up, he saw Jean had come to check up on him. "Oh, hey, Jean."

"Hey, Jason. Manage to fix Kurt's inducer?"

"I think so. Only way to be sure is to give it a trial run." Jason fingered the image inducer as he looked at it. "What's up?"

"I was just checking up on you. How's your nose?"

Jason held the flashlight to his nose. "No blood. I managed to get it cleaned up."

"You know, Jason, I'm actually proud of you."

That got Jason's attention. "Proud of me? For what?"

"Back at the lab, you took quite a beating from Pietro. You could have beaten him within an inch of his life when you finally had the upper-hand, but you restrained yourself. All you did was unnerve him enough so that you could land a blow to get him away from the projector and yourself."

Jason swallowed. "Jean…"

But Jean would not be interrupted. "You could have taken revenge there easily, but you kept your mind on the mission, as it were. You didn't take revenge, even though earlier today you were more than ready to. And for that, I'm proud of you, and so would the Professor."

Jason sighed. "Jean, don't try to make it more than it was."

Jean blinked. "What do you mean?"

"That was a one-time thing. If I happen to see Pietro again, I just might cut loose. I…I don't even know what held me back that last time." Jason shook his head. "It would have been so easy…but…I didn't. He's out to get under my skin, but no matter what I do, he manages to strike right where it hurts. I only won a small battle tonight, and I got lucky, but the war is still on." Jason sighed angrily. "Oh, it's still on."

Jean looked sadly at Jason as the latter looked down at the ground as he continued to fondle Kurt's image inducer. She sat down beside Jason, who didn't move as she did. "Jason, I know dealing with a bully is a tough thing, especially one as bad as Pietro. I've heard of terrible things that happened to bullied kids, and I have an idea that you know as well."

Jason didn't respond, but a subtle movement by his head suggested to Jean that Jason did know.

"We all know that you're dealing with this, Jason, yet I don't think you've really talked to us about it. We're your friends, Jason. We want to help you. Have you told anyone anything about this? Have you even talked to Piotr about it?"

Jason looked weakly at Jean. "Peter had enough troubles in his life; I don't need to burden him with my own."

"I'm sure he wants to help."

Jason leaned back. "I know he does! He's so caring about others feelings that I have to wonder if he even care about his own. He's such a great friend, probably the best friend I've ever had. You know that he slept in the storage room with me during Hurricane Irene when I was too scared to sleep in my own bed? What kind of a guy does that?"

"An exceptional one," Jean answered simply.

Jason didn't respond right away, but eventually, he responded simply, "Yeah."

"I'm sure someone who is willing to do that would be perfectly willing to be there when you need to talk about your troubles. After all, isn't that something you learned during the hurricane?"

Jason looked up, remembering that time. He was an absolute jerk to everyone, and all they wanted to do was help him. "I guess I didn't."

Jean smiled. "Well, that's why you have friends all around you: to remind you of the lessons you should learn."

Jason looked at Jean, and managed a weak smile. "Thanks, Jean."

Jean stood up. "Come on, let's join the others."

Jason stood up. "All right."

It was a short walk to join the others around Scott's car. When they arrived, Forge was asking Kurt a question that really didn't seem all that pressing. "So, you're telling me that they didn't make one _Star Wars_ movie, but _six_?"

"Totally!" Kitty cut in.

Jason smiled. "Don't forget the countless books and video games they keep adding to the universe. I heard that there is a designated universe guru that organizes the whole thing, and it's not George Lucas."

"Man, I'm really out of the loop," Forge said.

"That's what being trapped in a pocket dimension for thirty years does to you," Scott said. "Speaking of, thanks for helping Kurt to get out of there. We owe you one."

"Me? I should be thanking _him_! If he didn't have that teleporting power, we never would have gotten out of there."

"Aww, you're too nice," Kurt said, blushing underneath his fur.

Scott smiled, but then said. "Hey, Forge, you are welcome to crash at the Institute for however long you need. Heck, you could probably join us there. You are quite gifted, and I'm sure the Professor would love to have you."

The others around Forge chorused their approval. Kurt was especially vocal. "Dude, after getting me out of that Middleverse, he earned it."

Forge smiled, brushing the back of his head. "Thanks, guys, and I appreciate it, but after being gone for thirty years, I think I have some things that I really need to attend to. After all, I'm thirty years late for curfew! I'd better see if I can go home and tell my parents what happened."

"_Assuming they're still there,"_ Jason thought sadly.

"_We can only hope, right?"_ Jean replied telepathically.

"_Yeah…don't get me wrong, I really hope they are."_

"Well, do you need a lift?" Scott said.

"No, thanks. It's not that far."

Scott pulled out a piece of paper from his pocket. "Your call, but listen. If you ever need us, give us a call. We'll be over as fast as we can."

Forge took the card from Scott. "Thanks, I really do appreciate it. Later, gators!"

The rest of the guys chorused their respective farewells as Forge disappeared into the darkness.

"Far be it from me to suggest anything, but maybe we all should head out too," Jason said.

"I hear that," Kurt said. "I had enough to today to last me thirty years."

As the six that remained piled into the car, Kitty said, "Good thing Rogue and Bobby decided to high-tail it back home. I don't think we can fit another guy in here!"

"Maybe Kurt just needs to lose weight. All those burger bombs will do that to you," Jason joked.

"Very funny, Scarface."

Scott buckled himself in, and adjusted the mirror. As he did, he caught a glimpse of Kurt in his furry glory. "Uh, you might want to stay low for a while until we get that inducer fixed."

Kurt gasped. "It's true, then! You _are_ ashamed of me!"

As the others laughed, Jason handed out the inducer. "Actually, it should be fine now. Give it a shot, fuzzy."

Kurt slipped on the watch and pressed a button. Instantly, his furry body and uniform was masked by his normal hologram. "Now that's more like it."

"Tail not included?" Jason joked.

"It's all good!" Kurt smiled.

Scott then looked serious. "Hey, Kurt? Listen…I'm…I'm really sorry about what happened at the table. I overreacted."

Everyone stared at Scott as if his shades just turned blue.

Kurt burst into a grin momentarily, but sobered up. "Well, you were right about one thing. I do goof around a lot, and I'm sorry. Maybe I could take some more things more seriously?"

"And maybe I could relax a bit more?" Scott replied.

"Did hell just freeze over?" Jason interrupted.

Dramatically, Jean said. "Oh, Scott, not you!"

Kitty giggled. "Somebody check the fearless leader's temperature. Mr. Military has officially gone soft."

Even Piotr, having been quiet the whole time, had something to say. "I think we can call President Putin and declare holiday in Russia."

Everyone laughed as Scott replied, "Yeah, yeah, rub it in, X-Men." Starting the car, he the added. "Ok, so now that's all out of the way, how about we celebrate by going home, gearing up and running a level three training sim in the Danger Room?"

Jason nearly fell out of his seat. "Are you kidding me?"

Everyone else shared Jason's sentiment. Kurt responded as well. "Come on, Scott. That's what I've been talking about! You just take things too seriously!"

Scott then smiled. "To answer Jason's question. Yes, I was kidding. Got you all."

The relief that was released made everyone laugh. Kurt merely smiled. "Yeah, yeah, very nice. I guess there is hope for you after all."

"Don't be handing out the grade-card just yet, Kurt. That was a lame attempt."

"Oh, shut up, rookie," Scott said. "How about _you_ alone run the level three sim while _we_ go to Duncan's party?"

Jason clapped. "Good joke, encore!"

Another laugh ran through the car. "Now, one thing I _was_ being serious about was going to Duncan's party."

Kitty pouted. "Oh, but I can't go. I'm like a 'Freshman!'"

"And you are also one of us," Scott reassured. "We'll make it happen."

"Hey, are we going to sit here all night, or are we going to rock?" Kurt said.

Piotr smiled. "Let us rock."

"Carried," Jason added.

"Then let's rock!" Scott said, roaring his engine and blasting his car out of the park. It was time to kick back and relax…while rocking socks off.

* * *

><p><em>And "bamf" goes the Nightcrawler. This one was a bit of fun to write, even though it didn't get a large amount of creative license. Still just under three weeks to write? Not bad, not bad at all. This chapter was based on <em>X-Men Evolution _Episode 6: Middleverse__. Oh, and F.Y.I., I got Forge's real name from the Ultimate X-Men comics. _

_Anyway, time for some Q&A!_

_ibnuub writes: I got to ask. __**Do you plan on having other organizations target Jason for his powers or just Magneto?**_

_While Magneto and the Brotherhood of Mutants are the primary organization after Jason in this work, others will show interest as Jason's power become noticed by more people. Most importantly, one person in particular will have a very keen interest in Jason in the next book, but not necessarily because of his power. Who could that be? Read on and find out!_

_And now a preview for our next chapter:_

_After botching a training exercise, Jason goes on a spelunking field trip far from the school and the Institute. Everything seems to be normal, but when a certain changeling makes her move, Jason will soon discover just how close his enemies really are as his trust will be put to the test. Will Jason stand firm, or be swept away? Find out in __**Chapter 6: Close**__. _


	7. Chapter 6: Close

**CHAPTER 6:**** Close**

* * *

><p><em>Saturday, October 8, 2011 – 7:21 AM<em>

The fog lay thick over a warehouse, casting the building and fencing around it in a bleak and eerie atmosphere. The fencing was decked with various warning signs, all clear in their intent: to discourage the curious. If that was not enough, a few security guards were patrolling the perimeter. Whatever was inside that warehouse, it was important. It seemed that only a fool would try to break in.

As it turned out, eight such fools were waiting just outside the fence, keeping an abandoned vehicle between them and the ever-piercing gazes of the guards. All were clad in dark uniforms that blended in the darkness around them, except one which had gold markings that highlighted his legs and his chest lining. Each of these eight looked around the landscape, taking in the surroundings.

One with sandy-blonde hair sighed. "This isn't going to be easy, huh Scarface?"

The one with the gold markings hissed. "Of course not. Doesn't change the mission, Iceman. We got to get Jean out of there, and now! And call me by the codename, Iceman!"

Jubilee looked at the guards. "How are we going to get past them?"

"I count four of them," reported Magma.

"Go figure we wouldn't have any powers that could help us sneak up on them, huh?" Iceman said.

Alchemist, the gold-marked one, had to agree. "Yeah, but this isn't impossible. We don't have to sneak past them, really. We have the knock-out gas if we have to gas them for a bit, but it's only good for five minutes. If we use it on anyone, we got to act fast."

"But how are we going to see them in this fog?" Multiple asked innocently.

"Don't sweat it, Multiple," Iceman replied. "That's what the infrared googles are for."

"Speaking of, everyone put them on and activate them." Alchemist put on his own goggles and turned them on, causing the eyes to glow red. "Now remember, they can see the red glow, so stay out of their lines of sight. Multiple? Boom-Boom? I need you with me. The rest of you, go around and try to take out the guards. If you can't, keep a close eye on them and keep us updated on where they are, but be sure they can't hear you, ok?"

"Ok," chorused the others quietly.

With that, the eight split up. Alchemist, Boom-Boom and Multiple snuck stealthily to the chain-link fence. Alchemist sized it up as he considered his options. "Too high to vault, and too noisy to climb."

"Couldn't you just use your power to open it?" Multiple ventured.

"Easily, but the light might attract the guards."

Boom-Boom looked bored. "If I really wanted to break into somewhere, I'd rather it be a place where there was a loud party going on."

"Compared to this, I'd agree," Alchemist replied, and then looked at the guards patrolling. "I guess I have no choice…" He placed his hands together, and then grabbed the chain-links towards the bottom. As the alchemic reaction did its work, green bolts of energy crackled through the air, more so than Jason had hoped. Biting his lip, he watched the guards as the reaction finished, creating a small gap in the fencing big enough to crawl through. "Ok, this will have to do. I don't dare risk anything bigger than this. Multiple, you first, Boom-Boom next, and I'll follow. Don't hit the fence with your feet."

Young Jamie Madrox nodded nervously, and then got on his hands and knees. Slowly but carefully, he crawled through the small opening. As soon as he was through, Boom-Boom followed him through, followed by Alchemist. When all were in, Alchemist watched the guards again, and sensed that they had not noticed them. All's well so far…

Suddenly, Magma called on the communicator. "Alchemist, you hear me?"

"Loud and clear," Alchemist responded. "We just got inside the fence."

"I had to use the gas on a guard about a few seconds ago."

"Ok, let's step up the game. If he wakes up, we're in trouble."

Alchemist signed off. "Come on. I see a fire escape we can use to get us to the roof. We should be able to get in that way."

"Good, the sooner we get this done, the sooner I can do what I _really_ need to be doing," Boom-Boom said.

Alchemist bit back a retort. "There's just the issue with the guard."

Multiple pulled on Alchemist's uniform. "Jason, is that Iceman up there?"

Alchemist looked up. Sure enough, Iceman was somehow hanging upside down from the wooden wall. A closer inspection revealed several ice claws sticking out of his arms, allowing him to hang from the wall. "Huh, that's creative. But what is he doing?"

"Shh, here comes the guard," Multiple warned.

The three flattened themselves, but they needn't have. Iceman dropped down behind the guard. The guard spun around surprised, but before he could react, Iceman gassed him and down he went. Iceman brushed his hands, and saw three of his teammates coming up to him. "'Bout time you got here."

Alchemist ignored the shot. "That's two down, but we don't have a lot of time." He looked up the fire escape. "If I can open up the skylight, I should be able to get down into the room and get Jean out." Alchemist grasped the fire escape. "I'm going up. Multiple, Iceman, come on up. Boom-Boom, that leaves you to deal with any guards. I don't want any come riding up on my ass, can you handle it?"

"You betcha, cutie!"

Alchemist was about to protest, but ultimately sighed. "Never mind." Turning around, he climbed up the ladder, followed by Iceman and Multiple. When they reached the top, they located the nearest skylight and looked down. The room was large but featureless, aside from metal supports along the ceiling. They didn't have to look long, but found a single post in the middle of the room. Chained to it was the still form of a woman with red hair. "There's Jean," Iceman said.

"And here goes the window," Alchemist said, clapping his hands together. Touching the window caused it to melt away, opening the skylight just enough for someone to enter.

"Looks easy enough," Iceman said. "All I have to do is make an ice-pole and we can slide right do—"

"No can do, Iceman," Alchemist interrupted. "Put your infrared googles back on. When you do, you can see that there's a rather tight network of infrared laser sensors shooting everywhere. We touch that, and every guard in the place will be on us like Black Friday."

Iceman blew it off. "Big deal." He spoke into his communicator. "Hey, 'Zerker, we need you to cut the power to the place."

Berserker replied. "Ok, gimme a minute."

Alchemist didn't seem too pleased. "Bobby, the objective was to get in without drawing attention. Knocking out the power will surely tip them off."

"You want to get this mission done with our not? And by the way, it's 'Iceman'."

Alchemist growled, but then sighed. "Fine."

Before too long, all heard an electrical zapping…followed quickly by what sounded like hustling. Alchemist winced as he saw the red beams of infrared lasers fade away. "Well, they know we're here now."

Iceman didn't seem to care, but instead wordlessly created an ice pillar and slid down it. Alchemist and Multiple looked at each other, and then slid down the pole together. When they reached the bottom, Multiple accidently let go a little too soon, and landed hard against the ground. Thankfully, he—or rather they—were not hurt.

Alchemist sighed as he looked at the five Multiples. "Let's get Jean and get the hell out of here!"

All ran to the still form of Jean; she hadn't moved. Alchemist said, "See if you can get her to wake up. I'm going to break her loose." While the other two did, Alchemist clapped his hands together, and transmuted the chain and bindings on Jean's wrist into a metal rod. Spinning around, he addressed Iceman. "How is she?"

Iceman shook his head. "She isn't moving. Darn it, I was hoping I could finish this mission before my favorite show in TV."

"Focus, Iceman!" Alchemist stooped to shake Jean awake. "Jean?"

Suddenly, Jean's hand shot out and grabbed Alchemist's wrist, startling him. "Not quite," she said in a deeper voice. Rising up, her form stretched and changed into an azure-skinned slender woman in a white and blue garment, while her hair shorted to just beyond her shoulders.

Alchemist recognized her immediately, and shouted out in surprise, falling back on his rear. As he did, the woman grabbed the staff from Alchemist and whipped it around striking both Iceman and Multiple in one sweep, knocking them both to the floor. The woman then slowly walked to Alchemist, who had not recovered from his shock. "Consider this mission…terminated." She raised her staff to strike.

"ABORT! ABORT THE SIMULATION!" Alchemist cried out, terrified.

At once, the warehouse and the woman melted away, changing the room to the familiar dome-shaped room of the Danger Room, back inside the Institute. Jason remained sitting where he was while Bobby and Jamie picked themselves up, rubbing where they got struck. "Uh, Jamie? You're still split five ways," Bobby said.

Jamie looked around at his perplexed clones. "Oh," he merely said, and at once, the clones disappeared into thin air.

Suddenly, the main door slid open, permitting entry for the Professor, Jean, Scott and Logan. The Professor looked stern. "Jason, you are not to abort the simulation unless you have been hurt."

Bobby protested. "What, we weren't?"

Jason made his way to his feet. "Professor, what was Mystique doing in this exercise? She was not in the briefing!"

An eyebrow on the Professor's slightly wrinkled face slid up a fraction. "The element of surprise, Jason. As I'm sure you are aware, surprises, both pleasant and unpleasant, are a part of life. That is true even in your training."

"But—?" Jason was about the say, but was interrupted.

"We're out of time for more training today. Jason? Jean? I believe you have to prepare for the school spelunking field trip in about an hour, so I suggest you two be ready soon." The Professor then turned and left.

Jason merely stood there for a little bit, and then deflated.

Bobby didn't seem to notice Jason. "'Abort the simulation', huh?" He said as he smiled. "I have to remember that one. Good one, Jas—I mean Alchemist."

Jason didn't answer, but merely walked past Bobby and Jamie as if he didn't see them there. Bobby and Jamie watched him go, silent but perplexed.

* * *

><p>Piotr Rasputin looked at his art pad as he contemplated the first stroke of his next artwork piece. His experience told him that the first stroke was always the hardest one. Once he got past it, the rest of his work went smoothly and gracefully. But even before the first stroke, there was the decision on what the drawing would ultimately become. Drawing art was one of the joys in his life that he was able to take with him when seeing his family was not possible. While he dearly missed his family—it had been over a year since he has seen his sister last and longer for the rest of his family—his art did distract him enough to at least numb the pain. Finally having a friend helped as well.<p>

Over the last couple of months, Jason and he have been definitely becoming good friends. Sure, Jason was sometimes a grump, but Piotr understood it as being a part of his psychology after his near-lethal affair with Mother Nature only six months ago. Piotr knew himself he had his own faults so he couldn't really criticize anyway. Thankfully, Jason usually saw reason at the end of it all and apologized if he went too far.

As he pondered over his art pad, he heard the door open up, permitting a rather disturbed-looking Jason in uniform. Piotr knew something was wrong by Jason's demeanor, and prompted to ask just as Jason sat down rather quickly. "Jason?"

Jason looked up. "Oh, sorry, Peter. I didn't see you there."

"Is ok," Piotr forgave. "Can you tell me what is wrong?"

"It's no—" Jason automatically started to say, but stopped himself. Over the previous month, he had been having a hard time opening up to people, the most prominent example being during the hurricane. Less than two weeks ago, he had a conversation with Jean regarding that problem, and since then, he tried harder to open up to people. Besides, Piotr was asking. If he didn't open up to him, who would he open up to here at the Institute? "Well…no, it _is_ a big deal."

Piotr set aside his art pad. "Do you wish to talk about it?"

Jason looked up at Piotr. "Well, I wish I had a lot more time to talk to you about it, but I do need to get ready for the spelunking trip as well. Can I talk to you while I get ready?"

Piotr shrugged. "I do not see why not."

With that Jason stood up and picked up a large bag from the floor, apparently heavy as Jason used two hands to lift it. "Well, I was in a training exercise today with the other newer students…and I botched it big time."

Piotr understood that. The Danger Room sessions were often very taxing, and many times they ended in failure. Still, something was off. "I do not understand. You have…uh…messed up before in those exercises. Why did this one bother you so much?"

Jason opened the bag and began running through it to see if he had everything ready to go. "Well, it wasn't necessarily me botching the mission that's the problem." He pulled out a pair of striped briefs_. "What the hell are these doing in here?"_ Tossing them aside he continued. "It's how I botched it in the first place."

Piotr continued to listen. "What happened?"

"Well, the mission parameters were to infiltrate into a secure location and rescue Jean, stealthily if possible. We got to Jean without too much of a problem, but when I released her, it turned out it wasn't Jean…" Jason stopped what he was doing. "It was Mystique."

Piotr blanched.

"I-I mean, it wasn't Mystique, just a representation of her, but seeing her…I froze up, and when she was about to hurt me, I called to abort the mission. When I asked the Professor about it, he said they switched Jean out beforehand to set up the element of surprise. Well, it certainly surprised me…shocked me is more accurate."

Piotr looked like he missed something. "I still do not understand why you are upset about it."

"I'm not upset about the element of surprise thing. Sure, that's a part of life. It's…well…of all the people the Professor had to choose, why did it have to be _her_?"

Piotr finally understood. "Yes, I do not understand that choice. Mystique is—"

"You don't have to finish that thought," Jason interrupted. "I know perfectly well how twisted she is, especially after she—" Jason cut himself off.

Piotr prodded. "Jason?"

Jason sighed. "I'm sorry; it's just not a pleasant memory." After zipping up his bag, he turned around, sat back on the bed and began to remove his boots. "You remember the night we first met?"

"The hospital?"

"Yeah," Jason then removed his uniform top before continuing. "I've always said that Magneto was one of the biggest things I remember and dread, but to be honest, of the ones I dread the most, it was her: not Magneto, not Deathstrike, Mystique."

"Why her? It was Magneto that threatened to kill your family."

"And I haven't forgotten that in the least, Peter, but Mystique did something that rattled me to the core."

"What?"

"She wore the face of my father."

Piotr blinked, but then his eyes slowly widened as the memories of that night started coming back. He could see it again, Jason demanding answers from Mystique:

_"And who are you anyway. I know you're with Magneto, but who are__you__?"_

_Mystique looked down at Jason again, but this time with a mischievous smile. "I can be anybody you like." With that, she changed into another form…one that nearly made Jason's heart stop with dread: his own father, bearing a twisted look on his face that didn't seem to belong to him. "Anyone."_

_Jason was practically frozen at seeing his father's image look down upon him in such a twisted way; he couldn't think. Colossus, on the other hand, found his tongue. "You monster!"_

_Mystique-Patrick looked at Piotr with scorn. "Tell me, Rasputin…who really__is__the monster here?"_

_At that, Piotr froze. Mystique had hit him right where it hurt: his self-loathing for working for Magneto to hurt people. Even since he left Magneto, he still felt like a monster, and he avoided the company of the other X-Men because he couldn't forgive himself. He lowered his head in shame._

"I remember now…" Piotr said slowly. "I did not know at time she was impersonating your father, but when I saw your face…I knew it must be terrible."

Jason stopped to shake the dark memories from his head. "Yeah…I still sometimes get nightmares from that. I wish I could forget that, but I just can't. Seeing Mystique just a little bit ago, even if it wasn't the real Mystique, brought it all back." Jason put a hand to his head despairingly and sighed. "I can see it right now even."

Piotr looked pityingly at Jason. He too had some rather hellish memories of Mystique and those she associated herself with, but it took only one instance for Jason to remember her forever. "I…I wish I knew what to say…"

"I don't think there is anything to say…" Jason pulled off his uniform bottoms and promptly grabbed a pair of heavy fatigues. Slipping them on, he continued. "That's why it puzzles me: why did the Professor choose her of all people? I mean, I would think he knows how much she unnerves me."

"Have you ever told him?" Piotr said.

Jason had just put on his belt when he processed that question. "Well…no…but he's a telepath. I thought he already knew."

Piotr shook his head. "He has always said he would never get in people's head unless they ask him."

Jason sat down again and was working to get a pair of steel-toed boots on. "Funny, he didn't ask me when he first talked to me back in the hospital," he mumbled.

"Jason…" Piotr said condescendingly.

"I'm sorry," Jason responded quickly. "I just—" Jason stomped his foot to get the boot on and began to tie it. "—well, ever since I was left behind while you guys were helping Jean against Blob, I've slowly been getting a suspicion that the Professor knows something and is keeping it from me. Even before that, Dr. Strange was even secretive with me about powerful mutants, to which I still have figured out why."

"Perhaps you should talk to him about Mystique."

"I tried, actually, just before I came here, but he cut me off. Aside from being bugged about it, I can't help but feeling that he's not telling me something."

"But why would he keep secret from you?"

Jason picked up a black turtle-neck sweater. "If I knew the answer to that, Peter, I think I wouldn't be sitting here voicing my frustration."

Piotr watched as Jason put on the sweater. "If he is keeping secret, what are you going to do?"

Jason pulled down his sweater and sighed. "I really don't know, Peter. I really don't. If the Professor was keeping secrets like this from you, wouldn't you want to know why as well?"

Piotr thought about that question. As he thought, he did remember that there was one significant secret that the Professor was keeping from him: the location of his family as a matter of safety for the Rasputin family from Magneto. Even though he knew why he couldn't know, it still saddened him. "Yes…I do want to know."

Jason noted the lack of any hypothetical nature of Piotr's answer, but he decided now was not the time to talk about it. He already had a feeling what it was. "Well, I can't do anything about it now. I got to go now. Scott's probably already waiting for me with Jean at his car." Hoisting the bag over his shoulder, he made to leave.

Before he did, he looked at his uniform and noticed the badge on it. He was told that it was a communicator as well as a marker so any of the X-Men could find him. He made it a habit of carrying his uniform with him everywhere he went just in case, but he couldn't this trip. Still, would it really hurt to take the badge with him in case something happened? _"Come on, Jason, you're getting paranoid. Jean's coming along; you won't need this…right?"_ He thought as he unclipped it from his uniform. Something just didn't sit right with him leaving it behind.

"Jason?" asked Piotr, after seeing Jason just stand for a while.

Jason looked up. "Oh, sorry; my mind went a few miles away for a second. Anyway, thanks, Piotr, for listening."

Piotr smiled weakly. "_Pozhaluista._"

Jason smiled. "I guess that means 'you're welcome'?"

Piotr blushed. "Oh, sorry…yes, it means that."

Jason smiled more. "We'll talk more about it when I get back." He turned to leave again.

"Jason, wait."

Jason stopped and looked at Piotr. "What?"

"I do not know if this helps, but try to trust Professor. He helped us so much; he must have reason."

Jason regarded Piotr for a second, and slowly nodded. "I'll try." Jason then left the room.

Piotr looked on after Jason for a moment, lost in his own thoughts. Suddenly, his mind clicked as an idea for an art piece came to his mind. Scooping back up his notepad, he began to work on it immediately. He might not know how to help Jason right now, but he might have an idea how to cheer him up once he gets back. By the time he did get back, he should be done.

* * *

><p><em>Bayville High School – 8:12 AM<em>

The day was young, but the school parking lot was alive with sleepy yet eager students gathering around the school bus that would take them on their spelunking field trip. As other students with their parents dropping them off and turning in permission slips, an older man was reading over the checklist for spelunking equipment. "All right, people, listen up! Double check your spelunking gear in your packs: hard hat, spiked or steel-toed boots, rope, compass, rations, flashlights, extra batteries, lamps, candles and extra matches. Be sure you have all of these items because there are no sporting goods stores on the way to the Tapoe Caves. I also recommend wearing heavy or padded clothing that you do not care getting dirty." Mr. Rhodusky, the earth sciences teacher and geology club sponsor, looked up in remembrance. "Oh, and if I see even one of those new handheld gaming gadgets you all are so obsessed with, I'll confiscate them all and they will not be returned to you until the end of the trip."

There was a collective moan as select students pulled out various portable entertainment systems from their respective pockets.

While Mr. Rhodusky continued to read over the field trip parameters, a couple of other soon-to-be explorers were making their way to join the students beside the bus; one of them looked a little bit sullen. Jason was heaving his own pack over his back as he walked alone. Flanking him on either side was Scott and Jean. Both had seen Jason foul up the Danger Room exercise and they were trying to convince him that failures happen.

"I really don't see what you are upset about, Jason," Scott said. "You want to know how many times _I've_ screwed up the missions in training?"

Jason looked at Scott. "It's not me screwing up that's the problem; it's why I screwed it up."

Jean asked, "You mean that fact that the Professor replaced me with Mystique? He's done that before to us as well before you came along. It's quite a jolt, yes, but why are you letting it eat away at you?"

Jason sighed. "It's not that either, but you're getting warmer. It's because the Professor chose Mystique of all people to replace you. Had it been someone else, I might have been fine."

One of Scott's dark eyebrows shot up behind his ruby-quartz glasses. "I'm not following."

"You weren't there, that's why." Jason looked at Jean. "None of you were. But she was…and what she did…" Jason drifted off. "Well…I really don't want to talk about it."

Jean didn't have to read Jason's mind to know that the topic was making him uncomfortable, so he attempted to change it. "Is it just that?"

Jason regarded Jean, and then sighed. "I only told Peter about it and only just before I came down to meet you guys. I was going to ask the Professor about why it had to be Mystique, but he cut me off before I had the chance. That's not the first time I've been cut off when I was about to ask a question."

Scott and Jean looked at each other. Jean ventured, "Go on."

"It happened a few weeks ago the day before you were kidnapped by Fred, Jean. I was asking Dr. Strange about the powers of mutants, when I asked about mutants with really powerful abilities. He got really secretive and diverted my attention to the rest of my lesson. The next day, I get withheld from going on the mission with the rest of the X-Men when you were kidnapped."

Scott frowned. "The Professor said why then, remember? It was because you weren't trained enough to accompany us on missions."

Jason looked at Scott. "Well…yeah…but—"

"Don't be too hard on him, Scott," Jean intervened. "I wondered why Jason was not with you guys myself. We also know that if it wasn't for Jason's power through Rogue, things might have gone a lot worse. Even the Professor knows that."

"He sort of acknowledged that fact that night," Jason added. "He told me that while he applauded my initiative and my resourcefulness, he still said that I should have come to him first about it. He was probably right about that…"

Scott sighed. "That's fine and all, but what does it have to do with anything?"

"All of what I said has been building to a question that I've been asking myself for the past month." Here, Jason swallowed some before continuing. "I know it sounds awful for me to say, paranoid even, but I just can't help it. I…I just can't help feeling that the Professor knows something and he's not telling me."

Scott and Jean regarded each other again, looks of concern on their faces. Scott finally asked. "Why would you think that?"

"Like I said, I may just be paranoid or whatever, but the question knocked really loudly after the thing with Mystique this morning. I may not have told you about what happened with me and Mystique before, but I'm sure the Professor knows how much she bothers me, and yet he used her anyway. I wanted to know why, but he cut me off."

Jean asked, "Jason, the Professor wouldn't know anything about you unless you let him. He's said time and time again that he wouldn't enter anyone's minds without his or her permission."

"I know!" Jason bemoaned. "He told me that too, but yet I can't help but feel this way. I wanted to talk to the Professor, but after being brushed off, I just couldn't." Jason turned to Jean. "You're a telepath, Jean. Have you ever picked up a dark secret about someone, on accident or not, that was so disturbing to the person, he never wanted to talk about it? And if you did get that thought, what would you do with that knowledge: would you tell the person you knew, or tell someone else, or just keep it to yourself?"

Jean didn't answer, but merely stared at Jason as he asked each and every question. She was a little hurt that Jason would insinuate that Jean might have snooped on someone, but she knew that Jason didn't mean to hurt her, but was asking a very honest if not blunt question. As her mind digested the question, she found that each answer beckoned a new question: a what-if, whether-to or why-for. Finally, she just answered softly. "I don't know." She brushed a lock of her auburn hair slowly.

Jason looked at Jean for a brief second, and then lowered her head sadly. He turned to leave and left the two on the sidewalk. Scott watched him go, a little affronted for Jason's forward behavior, but Jean didn't seem offended by it. Who was he to step in?

Jean merely stood there, thinking about Jason, half-way tempted to look inside his head to see what was troubling him and what the source was. She was even half-way in when her conscience pulled it right back. Snooping would only provoke Jason, or further prove his point that someone was keeping despicable secrets from him. Jason didn't need more stress like that right now.

"_Jean?"_ came a thought.

Jean looked up startled. That was Jason's mental voice. She soon found Jason loading up his bag into the bus slowly and deliberately, as if trying to distract himself from the nagging questions in his head. She wasn't sure she should answer.

Jason didn't seem like he was waiting for an answer. _"If you happen to be picking this up, I just want you to know that if you do find an answer for my question, I hope you share it with me. I didn't mean to hurt you with such a forward question…but I really have to know this. Let me know when you find out something, ok?" _

In Jean's mind, she sensed a shutter closing in Jason's mind that blocked any psionic eye to peek into his head. Jason was done asking questions for now.

"Jean?" Scott said.

Jean looked at Scott. "I'll be fine. Jason just said a lot in a very short time. I'm still wrapping my head around it."

Scott sighed as he looked at Jason. "You really don't think that Jason might be onto something, do you? About the Professor knowing something important and not telling him? I mean, if that's true about him, what else has he been hiding?"

Jean sighed herself. _"Scott,"_ she said mentally. _"I can't give you any more answers to that question than I can give to Jason's. If the Professor is keeping something from us, he likely has a very good reason for it. Until he chooses to tell us otherwise, we're just going to have to trust him."_

Scott looked at Jean again. _"Yeah, I guess so. I just wish you could convince Jason of that. He didn't seem like he has a lot of confidence in us right now."_

"_Jason tends to have trouble with opening up to people. We just need to give him time and space for him to work it out in his own mind. He always comes around."_

"_If you say so," _Scott thought. Then aloud, he said. "Guess we'd better hurry things up."

Jean silently agreed, but then realized her own mind was beginning to manifest doubts about the Professor. Was he hiding something from them? Did he really have a good reason for it? Jean shook her head. This was going to be a long day.

As Scott and Jean walked past, somebody in the shadows of a shaded doorway watched them go with growing interest. Stepping out of the shadow, the slender but stern form of Ms. Darkhölme smiled coldly. _"So, it seems that Alchemist is beginning to question the Professor's integrity, and his own doubts are beginning to gnaw away at his peers. This couldn't be any more opportunistic."_ Stepping back in the shadows, she pulled out a communicator and dialed a frequency on it.

Soon enough, someone answered. _"What is it, Mystique?"_

"I have been observing Alchemist today, and he is sensing that the Professor is holding something back from him. He might even be thinking that the Professor doesn't trust or even fears him. Better yet, his questions seem to have put a small chink in young Cyclops' resolve."

"_An added bonus, but irrelevant currently. However, Jason's loss of resolve could be what we need to win him to our side. What is he doing now?"_

"Preparing for a field trip. According to the roster, the only other one from the Institute that will be accompanying him will be Jean Grey."

"_That must be rectified. If this plan is to work, the boy must be cut off from his peers."_

"That will be easy on my end. Just a little adjustment in paperwork, and Jean will not be able to go anywhere with the boy."

"_Excellent. Once he is alone from the rest of the group, we can arrange a meeting."_

"There's more. Alchemist has even expressed his fears of me to others at the Institute. He even failed a training session simply because I was there."

"_Then it is decided. You will handle Alchemist, while I make a small house call. Do not involve the Brotherhood. Confront the boy on your own, understood?"_

"Understood."

"_This is an opportunity that cannot be squandered. Move swiftly and quietly, Mystique. Soon, very soon, Alchemist will become our tip of the spear to achieve mutant dominance in the world. Even his attachments to his human caretakers will dissolve as our plan progressed. Now, go."_

With that, the communicator went dead, and as it did, Mystique vanished into the darkness to prepare.

* * *

><p><em>Several minutes later…<em>

Jason was triple-checking his gear to make sure he had everything, trying to ignore the fact that Jean and Scott were close by and were undoubtedly keeping an eye on him. He knew this would happen as soon as he opened up about his thoughts to them, which was why he typically kept his thoughts to himself, or so he hoped. If he remembered correctly, Jean's telepathy worked in what seemed to be the opposite way than the Professor's. Jean's telepathy was automatic, which meant that she couldn't help but overhear people's thoughts, while the Professor actually had to dig. He side-eyed Jean as she and Scott were double-checking Jean's bag. Jason wondered what kind of state Jean was in before the Professor found her. How would an untrained telepathic mind like Jean's feel like?

Jason rubbed his head as he refocused his own mind back on his own bag. Re-zipping it up, he hauled the heavy and bulky pack towards an open space in the luggage compartments of the bus. As he struggled to get it inside, his thoughts again began to drift. What if he was right in his suspicions about the Professor holding something back? What was he supposed to do about that? This was the world's most powerful telepath that he was thinking about here. Sure, he talked to the Professor about his own personal issues, but confronting the Professor about secrets was a whole new ball park. How was he supposed to confront him? Any conniving mind would be able to refute an accuser's accusations long before he or she could even speak them. Would the Professor do the same thing if Jason confronted him? If so, what was he supposed to do next?

"_Good god, Jason, stop it with the gloomy thoughts already!"_ came Jean's telepathic voice.

Jason looked at Jean, seeing that she was looking at him through the corner of her eye. Jason's eyes narrowed as he thought, _"Hey, I didn't ask you to eavesdrop in my head, Jean."_

"_It wasn't eavesdropping. Your thoughts are making so much noise that I swear it's going to rain right on top of you."_

Jason fought a smile. _"Point taken."_

"_Good, because if you insisted on rain showers on a day like today, I might have to force your mind into replaying your favorite episode of _My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic_ on loop."_

Jason finally cracked a grin. _"You do not play fair, Jean Grey."_

Jean herself let herself smile. _"You're welcome."_

Jason managed to get his pack stuffed into the compartment, and then he came over to where Scott was loading Jean's pack. When he arrived, Mr. Rhodusky called Jean over to speak privately. Jason sat down against the bus wheel as Scott worked on. "Listen, Scott, I know I said a lot back there, but I just hope you understand."

Scott pursed his lips. "I really am not sure I do, Jason…but you do seem like you at least believe you have a good reason."

"Well, I guess that's something. It's awkward enough for me to talk to people about things on my mind."

"Yeah, I know that feeling." Scott sighed. "Listen, Jason. I know what it's like to have dark secrets in your past, and so do some others at the Institute."

Jason managed to half-smile. "Logan for one?"

"_Especially_ him," Scott said with his own smile, but then he sobered. "People like Logan have more dark secrets in their pasts than pornographic images the average teenager has in his or her head."

"Charming allegory," Jason interrupted.

"But if someone like him can confide in the Professor with those secrets, is it that much harder for someone like you to do the same or something like that?"

Jason looked at Scott as that question resonated in his mind. Scott may be a "dedicated" person to say the least, but he made a very good point. If someone like Logan could trust the Professor with his own problems, why couldn't he himself trust the Professor enough to know that if he was holding something back, it was for a good reason?

He didn't get to answer as Jean returned, and it seemed that a rain cloud was forming in her mind as well. Jason noticed that right away. "What just happened?"

"I'm off the trip," Jean said quietly.

Scott reacted quickly. "What? Why?"

"Mr. Rhodusky said that the administration couldn't clear my admittance for the trip. Something about too many absentees in my file."

Now Jason reacted. "But you've never been late in your life! Who'd they think you were? Kurt?"

Scott replied next. "Even then, the Professor would have given legitimate reasons why Jean was late for anything. Last year, Jean was absent a few times for recruiting missions, but those were all approved."

Jean just sighed. "I asked that if they called Professor Xavier, he could clear things up, but Mr. Rhodusky said it was already too late because someone filled my spot. All he could say was he will try to clear things up after the trip."

Jason looked peeved. "This is bullshit!"

Scott himself looked less than thrilled, but he relented. "I guess I'll just unpack your bag."

Jason looked at Scott. "But—" Then at Jean. "Jean—"

Jean still looked very disappointed, but she tried to keep a brave face. "I guess you're going solo on this trip. Have fun, Jason."

Jason wasn't buying it. "Jean…"

Scott loaded the bag over his shoulder, and then looked at Jason. "Don't do anything we won't," he said, before leaving with Jean.

Jason just stood there stunned, unsure of what to do now. What kind of crap excuse is too many absentees against one of the most punctual students in school? No, this was a load of hogwash and Jason knew it.

"Hey, Jason!"

A familiar voice shook him out of his brooding thoughts. Looking to see, he saw that Jean-Paul from his Drama class had walked up to him, bearing his own pack of essentials. "Jean-Paul?"

"Last time I checked, yeah," he smiled.

Jason half-smiled. "I didn't know you were on the trip. Cutting it close, aren't you?"

Jean-Paul shrugged. "Hey, I didn't even know until I just got a call a few moments ago. I was a little too late signing up for the trip, but they put me on the waiting list in case someone dropped out. I guess someone did, and now…here I am!"

Jason lost his smile as Jean-Paul explained. So, it was Jean-Paul who filled in Jean's plot on this trip. "Oh," he only managed to say.

Jean-Paul caught on. "Something on your mind?"

Jason sighed. "Well, this is awkward." Jason pursed his lips briefly. "Jean-Paul, the person you replaced was Jean."

That seemed to sober Jean-Paul up. "Wait, why would Jean drop out of a trip like this? I heard her talking about this trip; she seemed like she really wanted to go!"

"She did."

Jean-Paul and Jason regarded each other briefly as the implications crossed between them like their gazes. Finally, Jean-Paul pursed his own lips. "I guess I shouldn't ask, should I?"

"Probably not."

Finally, Mr. Rhodusky announced. "Ok, people, if you haven't loaded your equipment up yet, do so now. We'll be leaving in five minutes!"

Jean-Paul smiled a bit. "Well, I guess I'd better load up. See you on the bus?"

"Yeah."

Jean-Paul nodded and moved around Jason, whose gaze followed as far as his head would turn. Jason knew that it wasn't Jean-Paul's fault that Jean was off the trip, yet it seemed that when the person in her place was someone he was actually acquainted with, it just made it all the more awkward. It would have been easier if it was someone else entirely. Still, Jean-Paul looked like he really wanted to go. Jason had no place to dampen that excitement just because a closer friend was booted in order for him to come.

Jason eventually sighed. Nothing he could do about it now.

* * *

><p><em>Xavier Institute for Gifted Children – The same day, 10:43 AM<em>

Professor Charles Xavier was relaxing in his chambers, half-listening to the building wind outside while reading a book at his desk. Threatening weather had forced the students to remain indoors and engage in calmer activities. As the Professor read, he remembered the last time a storm moved through the area in the form of Hurricane Irene. While most of the students fared that violent storm well, their newest student had not.

After it had passed, Jason had asked about the possibility of temperance exercises to boost his tolerance—or lack thereof—of thunderstorms. The Professor couldn't blame him trying to seek ease for such a fear. However, Jason's fear of storms was a bit more complicated, because it was created by a traumatic event. Every storm Jason witnesses reminds him of his near brush with death. Phobias are mainly the fear of what might happen, but Jason's fear was created because the worst _did_ happen. For that, Jason's astraphobia was likely permanent…and potentially crippling. The days before the hurricane were stressful, agonizing and numbing for Jason, who reacted by lashing out at those who tried to help him. In the end, he isolated himself from the rest of them for most of the time the storm raged. Ever since then, the Professor had wondered what a good approach would be to temper Jason's fear.

As he thought about this conundrum, he heard the windows rattle as the wind assaulted them fiercely. Turning his wheelchair around, he saw that the latch was working itself loose, threatening to permit the harsh winds access to the room. Calmly, the Professor travelled to the window and reached for the latch. Suddenly, his wheelchair moved forward on its own a few inches. Startled, he tried to back it up with his switches…but the power was dead. Then, his wheelchair shot backwards taking him with it as an unseen force pushed it towards the desk. As it hit the desk, the Professor looked up; he knew of only one person who could push a metal wheelchair like that.

"Magneto!" the Professor cried out. "Show yourself!"

At once, the window flew open, permitting the blasting wind to burst through the open window. The Professor shielded his face, but allowed his eyes to see just enough to look at who decided to visit. In the frame of the window hovered a man. His face was hidden underneath a brick-red helmet that seemed to hide everything but his eyes. He wore violet armored uniform, complete with a billowing cape the same color as his helmet. The Professor hardened his gaze in the presence of his old friend.

Magneto seemed to smile in the shadows of his psi-shielded helmet. "Dear Charles, you need not bark at me."

"Your rough greetings seem to tell another tale." The Professor played with the switches on his wheelchair as he conversed.

"Details. I expect you wonder what circumstances have brought my visit to your Institute for Gifted Children."

"Yes, so why are you here?"

"It would be rude of me to not visit an old colleague and friend, wouldn't it?"

"Erik, you and I both know that you've always disliked beating around the bush in conversation. Why have you come here?"

"Indeed. I've simply come to pay you a compliment. It seems that your young charges have been flourishing under your tutelage."

The Professor pursed his lips. Magneto was still beating around the bush, but if he was, he was merely warming up. But for what? "Yes, they are doing quite well."

"I am referring to the development of their mutant powers, old friend."

"And I'm sure you are aware that_ I_ am aware of that. I am quite proud of them."

"As you should. Even the young Alchemist seems to have recovered quite well, and is progressing quickly in controlling his power."

The Professor knew that Magneto was getting close to what he was really here for, and apparently, it had something to do with Jason. An ominous sign. "Yes, he has. Despite his injuries, Jason has been doing very well."

"Yet do you trust him?"

The Professor looked hard at Magneto. "Yes, I do."

Magneto seemed to make a knowing smile. "All evidence to the contrary. Even his teacher of his arts is reluctant to share certain information to him. You yourself are reluctant for him to accompany the elite of your students, despite the fact he has already demonstrated the skill necessary. He asked questions to which you do not answer…and even taunt him with his own fears."

The Professor's gaze hardened. "Believe what you will, Erik. Jason may be progressing well, but he is still not ready to join the X-Men."

"So it's true, then. You do not trust him."

"But I do, and with my life!"

"But not with the _truth?_"

The Professor felt the wheelchair pull him towards Magneto. The Professor braced himself for any impact, but Magneto stopped the wheelchair just before it reached the window. Magneto glowered won at the Professor. "To be honest, I'm quite surprised at you. You know how close I am to young Alchemist, and in how many ways as well. Yet Alchemist is completely in the dark, and you won't tell him a single detail. As a matter of fact, the rest of your precious X-Men know nothing as well. Tell me, Charles, just how long do you intend to keep your 'trusted' students in the dark…and just how far along would you consider to be too late?"

As if he was punctuating his statement, he slammed the windows shut magnetically, the glass shattering upon impact. The Professor threw up his hands as the glass rained down on his clothing. As soon as the glass stopped tingling to the ground, he opened his eyes and looked out the smashed window, but no one was there.

Magneto had gone.

Now alone, the Professor dwelled on what just happened. Magneto knew about Jason's supposed exclusion from the team, and he even hinted that he knew about Jason's failure in the Danger Room this morning. He wouldn't have known about such a thing…unless…

The Professor looked up and out the window, as if looking for something in the skies. Jason had been talking, but to whom? Jason may have been the newest member at the Institute, but he had the common sense to not talk about things at the Institute unless it was with someone else at the Institute. Jason had no idea about Mystique, not yet. The only other person Jason knew had a line to Magneto was Quicksilver, and he knew that Jason would rather die than confide in him. Moreover, Jason had not had the chance to even see Quicksilver today. That left only Mystique. How did she extract that information without Jason knowing it was her? She must have overheard it as Jason conversed.

The Professor's brow furrowed in worry. This did not bode well. It seems that Magneto and Mystique are closing in on Jason once again, and the boy has absolutely no clue. The Professor folded his hands, and closed his eyes. _"Logan, Hank, please report to my study. We have much to talk about."_

After sending out his telepathic summons, he looked out the window again. Jason by now was at least a hundred miles away and hopefully out of reach by Mystique. Even if she was, Jason would be safe as long as Jean was with him on this trip.

* * *

><p><em>Catskill Range<em>

Jason sat in the back of the bus with the hood of his head pulled far over his head, trying to ignore the rain and wind outside the bus. It was already two hours into the trip. Before the trip, he thought his worst enemy would be boredom, but as the storm began to build outside, he would gladly trade this for boredom right back. Despite taking a dose of his prescribed hydroxyzine when the storm began to threaten, he was still all too aware of every single raindrop hitting the bus roof and it made him jumpy.

He began to really regret coming on this trip, especially now that he was alone. If in the very least Jean was here, he could discreetly ask mentally if she had any idea to temper his anxiety just long enough for them both to reach the cave without an anxiety attack. Apparently, that was never meant to be thanks to Ms. Darkhölme ruining that for them. Now he was here on the bus by himself despite the ever chatty crowd all around him. He frowned as a thought that the Institute was probably dealing with fair skies right now. Go figure.

He was so wrapped up in himself at the moment that he didn't even notice Jean-Paul had come up to sit with him…at least up until he spoke. "My reliable sense of the male sex tells me that something is on your mind."

Jason looked at Jean-Paul with an annoyed expression. "Your point is?"

One of Jean-Paul's ebony eyebrows shot up. "Hey, I'm just trying to be friendly. What's wrong?"

Jason looked away, rubbing his forehead. "Sorry, Jean-Paul." Sighing, he continued. "I really, and I mean really, don't like storms."

"How come?"

Jason didn't look at Jean-Paul. "Jean-Paul, I mean this with the utmost amount of respect that I can muster: there are some things that I do not want to talk about to anybody and _this_ is one of them."

"Ok, ok, I get it. No need to be testy."

Jason sighed. "Jean-Paul, has anyone ever told you that your over-friendliness is sometimes annoying? God, you can be as bad a Pinkie Pie."

The choice of comparative distracted Jean-Paul enough to ask. "Who?"

"Never mind," Jason growled.

"Come on, Jason. Lighten up a bit! You're depressing me with the dark clouds above your head."

"I think they've above _everyone's_ heads right about now."

Jean-Paul laughed a bit. "Well, at least you still have a sense of humor, sarcastic as it may be."

Jason just sighed.

Jean-Paul looked a little annoyed. "Ok, I get you don't want to talk about what's bothering you, but would it kill you to smile a bit? For the last month, you've been a bit more sullen than usual, smiling only when Mr. Young called for it on stage. Back when you first came to school, you seemed like a rather happy guy."

Jason replied quietly. "I'm not the kind of person who grins like Smilin' Bob all day. You might seem the type, but I ain't that kind of guy."

Jean-Paul smiled. "Yeah, you definitely don't seem like the kind of guy who needs something like Enzyte."

Jason's mind froze as the off-handed remark distracted him from his moody thoughts. Fighting a grin, he managed to say, "You did _not_ just say that."

"Come on, Jason. I doubt that it's something to be ashamed of."

"Well, no, but—"

Jean-Paul put his arm around Jason. "Oh, we're talking about butts now, _ouais_? Hmm, don't know any herbal supplements for them though. Only thing I can guess for them is diet and exercise, but I don't think you really need those all that much either."

Jason was so distracted by Jean-Paul's bunny trail that he didn't even notice he was beginning to grin. "What are you, a modeling recruiter or something?"

"Hey, if it gets you to smile again, I might think about the career change." Jean-Paul glanced at Jason, and grinned even more. "And it looks like I've already succeeded."

Jason's mind froze again as his mind played catch-up, and realized that yes, he really was smiling. Letting himself sigh, he replied. "Fine, you got me."

"See, that wasn't so hard, was it?"

Jason looked away, still grinning. "No, I guess not." Jason looked back at Jean-Paul again, his grin losing some of its brilliance. "But you do need to understand something, Jean-Paul. There are some things I can't talk to anybody about. It's not because they're despicable secrets or anything; it's just…well…they're the kind of secrets nobody tells anybody. I'm sure there are some things that you don't ever want to talk about, even if you aren't feeling sullen about them at the moment. Mine just happens to be a rather big one."

"And it involves storms?"

Jason looked away briefly. "Yeah."

"Well, okay. We won't talk about storms then. So, what else shall we talk about?"

"Anything besides my personal landscaping should be fine."

Jean-Paul sighed. "You are going to make this hard, Jason, but I suppose we can. So, back at school, I heard—"

"Just one question first," Jason interrupted.

"Yeah?"

Jason peered at Jean-Paul's shoulder riding just above his. "Are you going to keep this wrapped around me the whole trip?"

Jean-Paul looked at Jason, and finally realized that he never removed his arm from around Jason. "Oh, I guess that was rather forward of me."

"Yeah, it kind of was. If you want to do that again, I want dinner and a movie first," Jason joked.

Jean-Paul then looked mischievous. "Oh, really?"

Jason's brow fell over his eyes as he looked at Jean-Paul. "Don't get any funny ideas."

* * *

><p><em>Xavier Institute for Gifted Children – 11:09 AM<em>

Hank and Logan had listened to the Professor talking about Magneto's visit to the Institute and what he had chosen to reveal. Logan was the first to voice his thoughts. "I told you, Chuck. The kid will find out about Mystique sooner or later, and it looks like that's coming quick. Why don't you tell him before _they_ do?"

The Professor leaned back in his wheelchair. "You saw how Jason reacted to Mystique's presence in the Danger Room session this morning, Logan. He still isn't ready for that kind of truth."

Hank then replied. "I don't think that is something we can control, Charles. Jason will never be ready to face that truth in the timetable he's in now. I fear Mystique will reveal herself soon, and not just to Jason either."

The Professor didn't have to read the strong blue-furred mutant's mind to get that implication. "While the rest of the students have not been altered as Jason has, how are they supposed to handle dealing with the idea that their principal—whom they are supposed to respect and obey—and their enemy are one and the same?"

Logan grunted. "Chuck, if there's anything they're used to by now, it's keeping it cool and keeping their secrets. Even the kid knows that."

Hank agreed. "Far be it for me to criticize, but you might not be given young Jason enough credit. He's stronger than he lets on. Only real difference between us and him is that he has more buttons that shouldn't be pressed than us."

Logan continued. "He'll deal with it, just like everyone else will."

The Professor crossed his hands in front of him, his thoughts computing many scenarios on how the students will react to such tidings. "I don't know…"

Hank responded. "I know these are grave tidings, Charles and that the truth is ugly, but these children are our one hope against forces like Magneto. Leaving them any longer in the dark will certainly not help us or them. It was a sound enough decision while Magneto and the Brotherhood kept their distance, but with Jason's life on the line, I think we may need to finally bring to light just how close our enemies are."

The Professor considered these words. The more he considered them, the more right Hank and Logan seemed to be. Magneto and Mystique were up to something, and were already on the move. He had played chess with his old friend frequently, and while the one who made the first move had the initial advantage, careful moves after that often turned the tide. Magneto hade his move; Charles knew now was the time to make his move. But was the move Hank and Logan suggesting the wisest move?

Before he had time to answer that question, there was a knock on the door. All looked up and towards the door, while the Professor answered, "Come in."

The door opened, permitting admittance to Ororo "Storm" Munroe and Jean Grey. Ororo had a concerned look on her face. "Charles, trouble is brewing. A terrible storm is brewing in the Catskill Ranges."

Jean reported as well. "That's where the geology club went for their field trip this morning, and Jason went with them."

The presence of Jean surprised the Professor, enough for him to ask. "Jean, why are you here? I thought you were supposed to be there with them."

Jean's chestnut eyebrows lowered before she answered. "Yeah, so did I, but at the last minute Ms. Darkhölme deep-sixed me. I tried to appeal it, but Mr. Rhodusky said my spot was already taken."

Logan's face hardened. "So Scarface is up there on his own?"

Jean sighed. "Just with the other geology club students."

The Professor closed his eyes as his mind began to process the new dangers. "You're right. Trouble is brewing. Jean, find Scott and Piotr. Logan, prep the X-Jet. Storm, we will need you to try to clear out the storm for us. Jason is in grave danger."

Jean sensed that there was more going on here and thought to inquire thereon. "Professor, what's going on?"

The Professor regarded Jean. "I wish I had the time to tell you now, but we must act now." The Professor paused. "I promise I will explain everything after Jason is safe."

Logan and Hank glanced at each other, something Jean did not notice.

Finally, Jean nodded. "Ok, Professor." She promptly left, telepathically calling out for Scott and Piotr. The Professor turned to Hank. "Hank, stay here with the rest of the students. In the unlikely event that this may be a ruse, I need you and the rest of the X-Men on stand-by for anything that might come up."

Hank nodded. "Yes, Professor."

Logan merely growled and left them both. The Professor turned himself and slowly travelled towards the door. He hoped that for Jason's sake, this was just a ruse. If it wasn't, Jason may be overwhelmed.

* * *

><p><em>Catskill Ranges – 12:01 PM<em>

Jason listened in silence as Mr. Rhodusky gave a lecture of various metamorphic rock structures within the caves. They had reached the Tapoe Caves only a few minute ago, and apparently Mr. Rhodusky wasn't wasting any time. The rest of the trip was relatively a little more light-hearted thanks in part to Jean-Paul. Even then, Jason was uneasy the entire trip because of the building storm that seemed to continually build. They had ventured deep enough into the cave so Jason could no longer hear the roaring winds and rains, a fact which he was exceedingly thankful.

His mind switched back to the topic at hand when Mr. Rhodusky mentioned metamorphic rock and how it was altered into its current state from its original state: heat, pressure or chemical change. Mr. Rhodusky called it a mutation in a sense. Jason pursed his lips slightly at that choice of words. Ever since he found out he was a mutant, the very word "mutant" or anything similar automatically grabbed his attention. He really wasn't surprised, but it fascinated him that ever since finding out more about himself, such a simple word became so relatable.

"Do you zone out this much in class too?" Jean-Paul whispered.

"Oh, shut up," Jason whispered back.

Mr. Rhodusky spoke up. "Mr. Downs? You have something to say?"

Jason blanched. He hadn't expected to be heard. "N-no, sir."

Mr. Rhodusky's brow fell slightly over his aging eyes. "Then please pay attention. Free time will come soon enough."

"Yes, sir…"

"Now, if you would, can you point out an example of igneous rock formations, Mr. Downs?"

Jason automatically shown his flashlight around the cavern, looking for any clue that described the properties of igneous rock. After a quick searched, a flowing-like structure clued him in. "How about that along the base of the path here?"

"Very good! Now can you tell me how igneous rock is formed?"

"It forms mainly through the cooling and solidification of magma or lava. Whether it crystalizes or no is inconsequential to its classification," Jason recited.

"Very good, Jason."

Jason managed a weak smile.

After another forty-five minutes of seemingly endless lectures on the formation of caves and subterranean structures, the Professor finally declared a free time to let the students explore the caves, but only if they partnered up and didn't horse around. Jean-Paul eagerly called dibs on Jason, so off they went together down one passageway from the others. Jean-Paul finally sighed. "Finally. I don't know how you do it, Jason. All that science talk just numbs my head."

Jason shrugged. "Guess it's not for everyone. I've always been a bit keen at science for the most part."

"'For the most part'?" Jean-Paul inquired.

"Don't ask me anything about botany. If it gives me a headache, it will surely give you one. I couldn't even tell you the difference between phloem and xylem. All I know is that they're parts of a plant."

"You're right. It _is_ giving me a headache."

"Warned you." Jason smiled.

Suddenly, Jean-Paul perked up. "Hey, you hear that?"

Jason fell silent as he tried to listen. "Sounds like water flowing."

"Want to check it out?"

Jason held up a hand. "Jean-Paul, not so fast. Remember what Mr. Rhodusky said about water in the caves, and with the rain going on outside, we don't know how bad it might be."

Jean-Paul grabbed Jason's hand. "What's the matter? Afraid of the water too? We'll be fine, you big lump. Now, come on!"

With that, Jean-Paul practically dragged a protesting Jason along with him towards the sound. Seeing that he was protesting in vain, Jason finally relented and allowed himself to be dragged along. He felt he really shouldn't be surprised; Jean-Paul was always the eager one. Even at musical practice, he was an energetic one. Sometimes it was up to Jason himself to come up with ways to keep Jean-Paul busy.

Soon enough, both entered a large cavern where the water noise sounded close, but the general darkness made it hard to see anything. "Sounds like we're here," Jean-Paul said.

"Well, at least I can tell it's not floodwater." Jason tried to peer through the darkness. "We're going to need more light. Hey, Jean-Paul, shine your flashlight my way." Jason pulled off his backpack and began to dig through it.

"What are you looking for?"

"An LED camping lantern I brought along. I figured it'd be a bit safer than the kerosene variety. Ah, here we go!" Jason pulled out a red camping lantern and fumbled for the switch. "Just to warn you, the light is a bit harsh at first." Closing his eyes, he flipped on the light. A wash of white light bathed the cavern brilliantly.

Jean-Paul blinked. "_Merde_, you weren't kidding. That is—" He trailed off as soon as he took a look around the illuminated cavern, and was awestruck. "Jason…are you seeing this?"

Jason picked up the lantern and looked around, and was equally impressed. "My god…"

The cavern was a site to behold, complete with a lake as clear as glass, walls encrusted with quartz crystal, and even at the end of one side of the lake a waterfall pouring into a rather rapid-flowing river. Jason guessed the increased flow was because of the rain. Jason made sure to be aware of his proximity to the waterfall.

"Whoever said you have to go off-world to see a new world needs to come here. This is like a whole new world!"

"You said it," Jason breathed as he took in the beauty. "This is almost enough for me to take up spelunking as a hobby."

"You could probably use it too."

Jason smiled as he looked at Jean-Paul with an annoyed look. "And what is that supposed to mean?"

Jean-Paul shrugged. "Whatever you want it to mean." Sobering, he looked at Jason. "Sorry, I'll try to be serious. It's just that every time I see you, you're usually hard at work on schoolwork or focused on something just as demanding. Don't you ever just take the time to just relax?"

One of Jason's thick eyebrows rose up slightly. "I didn't know you cared."

Jean-Paul crossed his arms. "If I didn't care, would I really have spent half my time on the bus ride here just trying to cheer you up?"

Jason half-smiled as he looked away. "Good point." Pursing his lips a bit in thought, he continued. "I haven't really taken the time to pursue anything relaxing. Back at the Institute, I'm too tired to do anything relaxing, so I mainly just do my homework than go to bed."

Now it was Jean-Paul's turn to purse his lips. "By the looks of things, it's beginning to finally tax you."

Jason looked back at Jean-Paul with a perplexed look on his face, but said nothing.

Jean-Paul picked up on the wordless question. "You just look tired and distracted. Sure, you're still getting good grades and are nearly always on time. In fact, you're so punctual that I'm sure the White Rabbit wants a few tips."

Jason's brow lowered in annoyance. "Jean-Paul, you're following the bunnies again."

"Sorry, I'll try to focus. The point I was trying to make was that you're so committed to work and what-not that you barely have time for yourself. Is schoolwork so important that you do nothing but that?"

Jason pursed his lips. "Get real, Jean-Paul. I'm not a recluse that does nothing but do homework."

"Could have fooled me, _mon ami_. It's like I said before: the only time I ever see you, you're doing nothing but homework or something school-related. What else do you do? I know your friend Piotr draws; I hear Jean does clay modeling. Hell, I've seen your more reclusive friend Rogue read books. But what do _you_ do? Surely, you do more than just schoolwork!"

Jason started to look irritated. "Look, Jean-Paul, I'm flattered you care. Really, I am, but don't you think that's a personal question?"

"How?"

"You're asking about my personal life," Jason said accusingly. 'What else do you do?' Those were your words, Jean-Paul."

Jean-Paul willed himself to stay calm. "It was a harmless question, Jason."

"Perhaps I don't feel like sharing what I do with my free time, Jean-Paul."

"Would it help if I did? I like to write, my favorite sport is skiing, and I just happen to be—"

"Stop talking," Jason interrupted, holding up a hand. "I didn't ask, you know."

Pursing his lips, Jean-Paul continued. "Help me understand something, Jason. How does asking a question purely for curiosity's sake merit this kind of reaction? It's not like I asked you for your medical records. Now _that_ would be personal."

Jason turned away. "Perhaps I'm not much of a conversationalist."

"The hell you aren't!" Jean-Paul called out. "You'll talk about anything from hand gliders to HIV. This is the only time I've seen you actually shut up about something."

"Yeah, because they don't talk about my personal life. You see? I'll talk about anything else but my personal life. We clear now?"

Jean-Paul shook his head. "If I want to talk about anything else, I'll hit up an internet chatroom. I don't want to know about that stuff; I want to know a little more about you. You're practically a complete mystery to me."

Jason glared at Jean-Paul. "Why do you care so much? It's not like we're friends or anything!" Jason turned away and gazed over the crystal-clear lake, which seemed to contrast his inner turmoil.

Jean-Paul looked a little stung, and managed to say quietly. "_I_ thought we were."

Jason looked over his shoulder towards Jean-Paul, who had not moved. "Listen, Jean-Paul, remember what I said on the bus? There are some things I do not want to talk about. Storms are one, this is another."

Jean-Paul shrugged helplessly. "I'm still not even sure what 'this' is."

Jason's thick eyebrows fell over his eyes. "Well, it makes you feel any better, sometimes I don't either."

Jean-Paul crossed his arms. "I don't believe that for a second."

Jason turned away again. "I can't tell you what you believe. You want to believe that? Fine. It's a free country."

"Will you quit it?"

Jason didn't move, but he listened.

"Jason, you can call me whatever you want, but don't think of me as an idiot. You can blindside me all you want, but I know you're hiding something."

Jason peered over his shoulder again with a glare. "Back off, Jean-Paul."

Jean-Paul didn't seem to heed it. "You are, aren't you? Every time I ask a question, you rebut it with 'perhaps' or 'maybe'. All I asked was if you did anything else for fun! It's not like I asked you for the reason behind your scar, because your friend Piotr told me that you don't ever want to talk about that to anyone."

Jason's eyes slowly narrowed, emitting a poisonous glare. "I'm warning you…"

"Speaking of Piotr, you and Piotr are practically inseparable. In study hall, you're always helping him out and conversing quietly. Hell if I didn't know any better, I'd say you two were—"

Jason spun around. "_THAT'S NONE OF YOUR DAMN BUSINESS, YOU FAGGOT!"_ Jason yelled, his mouth showering droplets of saliva with each syllable. "You can drop those fucking fantasies to yourself because it's _NEVER GOING TO HAPPEN! I DON'T WANT TO TALK TO YOU, DO YOU HEAR ME?"_

Jason breathed hard angrily as Jean-Paul was struck silent. For several agonizing seconds they stared each other down as the atmosphere thickened like soup between them. Neither moved an inch, but ever so slowly, a single tear began forming in Jean-Paul's eyes. The light of the lantern caught it instantly, causing it to shimmer in the light's brilliance. Jason's brow lifted upwards as his eyes caught the gleam, but he didn't say a word.

Finally, Jean-Paul nodded slowly. "Ok." Blinking quickly, he sniffed slightly before continuing. "Well…I-I'll leave you alone then. I'll…I'll see you later." With that, he turned to leave.

Jason's eyes grew slowly larger as he realized what he had done. "Jean-Paul?" he whispered.

Jean-Paul looked at Jason one last time, his eyes rimmed with tears. "You should probably head back to the rest of the group in a little bit." He then left Jason alone in the cavern.

"Jean-Paul, wait!" He choked. Swallowing, he tried again. "Jean-Paul?" There was no response. "Jean-Paul!" He cried out desperately. "I'm sorry! I'm…" Jason sank to his knees. "…sorry."

There was no response still; Jean-Paul had gone. Jason was alone. Once again, he was alone…and it was his fault. Jason felt his own tears well up in his eyes as he looked to the rocky ground. He did it again: his temper and sequestration pushed someone away once again. This time, however, it looked like he finally went too far. He not only pushed Jean-Paul away, but insulted and falsely accused him. What was wrong with him? His mind replayed the conversation automatically, and Jason could see that Jean-Paul was only trying to become better friends, but Jason wouldn't have it apparently. He thought he had loosened up since Irene…but obviously that was not the case. Jason swallowed what felt like rocks. He was never going to learn.

Suddenly, he heard footsteps. Looking up, he saw a light in the tunnel growing ever so brighter. He hoped it was Jean-Paul so he could apologize, but he was set to be disappointed. In strode a blond teen wearing a heavy blue coat. Jason instinctively turned away, wiping his face dry with his jacket. The boy saw Jason immediately. "Hey, are you all right?"

Jason stood up, turning his back to the boy. "Yeah, I'm all right. Just fell on my face a bit."

The boy didn't seem to buy it. "You sure?"

Jason wiped his face dry, trying to convince himself he was presentable. He then turned to face the newcomer whom Jason recognized to be Paul, a friend of Scott's. "Yeah, Paul, I'm fine."

Paul seemed to look around the room. "Where's your partner?"

"He's…around," Jason replied quickly. "Was there something you needed?"

"Mr. Rhodusky sent me to round everyone up. Where did Jean-Paul go?"

"He actually went down the…" Jason blinked a bit as what he said sounded like it made no sense. "…the same passageway you just came up."

Paul looked behind him. "Oh, is that who that was? Well, derp, that's my luck."

Jason blinked slowly. "Yeah…well, I guess we'd better head back." Jason picked up his pack and made his way past Paul.

Suddenly, Paul turned around, grabbed Jason by the jacket and pulled him fiercely back into the big cavern. Jason was sent sprawling to the ground. Thrashing about in complete surprise, Jason looked up at Paul. "What the hell was that for‽" He picked himself up.

Paul's face twisted strangely. "I'm afraid that's going to have to wait, young Alchemist." He said in a voice that wasn't his. Suddenly, his form began to melt away, changing into a new form: a woman who looked like she was a principal of a school and a strict one.

Jason was transfixed. "P-Principal Darkhölme? B-but—" Suddenly, Jason's eyes grew really big. "No…"

Ms. Darkhölme's face broke out into a sinister grin. "So, you finally figure it out. But tell me: are you more surprised to see me?" Her form changed once again; this time, into a blue-skinned woman with a tight-fitting white dress. Her eyes were yellow as venom and her hair was red as a lion's mane. "Or me?"

Jason paled instantly, and fell backwards onto his rear. His eyes however did not leave this woman's eyes. He knew who it was: a figure from his nightmares and one that dogged him even in the day: Mystique.

Mystique began to laugh. "I wish you could see your face, you pitiful fool. Dumb confusion? Shock? Paralyzing fear? Tell me, which one are you feeling? Or are you feeling all of them?"

Jason finally found his voice. Breathing hard, he said, "You…"

"Indeed; it is I."

"What did you do to Paul?" Jason charged.

"Him? It's a funny story: it seems he got a small miscommunication of the departure date of the bus. He was never here."

"And…Ms. Darkhölme?"

Mystique smiled. "Principal Darkhölme? She is me; always has. Even on the very first day you came to school, that was me. It was always me."

Jason couldn't believe it. All this time, she was that close to him, and the others? Slowly, he shook his head. "No…no, that can't be right!"

"Any why not? Oh, because the dear Professor never told you about me? It is strange that he never told you or the rest of his precious X-Men about me…or in the very least…that I've been watching you all this whole time, even before you even came along." Mystique punctuated every sentence with a step towards Jason.

Jason shimmied away from the changeling, until he hit the far wall. "Why? Why would he do that?"

"Why wouldn't he? Believe it or not, Alchemist; that's one of the less important secrets he's kept from you. Do you want to know what else?"

Jason shook his head again, clapping his hands against his ears and shutting his eyes tight. "I don't want to hear it!"

Mystique crawled up really close to Jason. "Really, now? I seem to recall that you expressed your desire to know what the Professor was keeping from you just this morning."

"I'm not hearing this!" Jason yelled.

Mystique's serpentine fingers stroked Jason's clasped hand. "But you are. You want to know…and I have all the answers to it all."

Jason's eyes shot open. "Shut up!" He twisted around and threw a punch.

Mystique grabbed Jason arm, twisting her whole body around enough so Jason flew over her shoulder and back onto the ground with a thud. "You missed."

Gritting his teeth, Jason aimed a kick but Mystique backed away. Jason climbed to his feet and prepared to fight, but was shocked to see himself in uniform and bearing a twisted smile. Alchemist-Mystique blew a kiss at Jason, who yelled as he charged.

Mystique spun around like a tornado, smacking Jason squarely in the face. Jason sprawled to the ground, but landed right on his hands. His training kicked in and he hoisted himself up to a hand-stand, spinning around, striking out with his legs. Mystique flipped backwards and heaved herself up and over in a jump, ready to land right on top of Jason. Jason climbed to his feet and just evaded a nasty blow.

Jason glared at the image of his own self, which mocked him as it spoke. "You know," Mystique said in Jason's voice. "I've waited for this day to come."

Jason's face twisted with anger. "Stop wearing my face, you bitch!" Clapping his hands together, he transmuted a quarterstaff from the earth underneath his feet. Swinging it around, he charged at Mystique with a yell.

Mystique, not at all threatened, grabbed the staff as soon as it was past her ear, and pulled it hard up. Jason recoiled as the staff struck him underneath the chin, giving Mystique enough time to strike Jason in the face and chest with swift and savage kicks no human could even think of doing. Jason stumbled back, but Mystique came swiftly with a coup de grace: a flipping blunt kick right into Jason's forehead.

As Jason lay on the ground, Mystique smiled. "Well, if you insist." Her shape and voice changed into the form of Colossus in metal-form. The face was still twisted with a smile that didn't belong to the face. "How is this, comrade?" The hulking metallic man then spun around in a flying roundhouse kick.

Jason climbed to his feet, coughing, but took the blow straight to the side of his face, sending him sprawling into the crystal lake. The freezing water shocked Jason back to life and he climbed out quickly. Looking around, he saw Mystique back in her natural form. Angrily, he charged again. "You're going to pay for that!"

Mystique flipped backwards over and over, always dodging Jason's melee with the grace of a viper. "Keep trying, Alchemist, but I'm much stronger than you." She proved her words by grabbing Jason's head and slamming it into her thigh, following quickly with a kick with her other leg. The sheer force of the blow sent Jason spinning to the ground, while Mystique let herself fall onto her hands, unhurt.

Jason picked himself up, his face and chest burning with pain, but his glare was still as fiery as before. Bounding back, scooping up the staff as he went, he charged with a yell. Again, Mystique caught the staff once again, but instead of rebounding it, he hoisted herself up and over it, pulling Jason's arms back behind his back. Jason cried out in pain as a sickening serious of clicks heralded from his spine. Suddenly, Jason was back on the floor as a kick to his lower back sent him there.

Mystique spun around as if she was wrapping up a dance instead of a fight. "Consider that a favor. You're middle back should now be in good alignment."

Jason climbed up on his feet. While his back still smarted, he felt loosened up a bit more. Snatching up the staff again, he growled. "Don't expect me to say thank you." He charged again with the staff.

Mystique grabbed it again. "This again? Don't you have anything new?"

Jason smiled for the first time despite the bruising on his face. "How about this?" He slid his hands together.

Mystique was puzzled at the sudden show of confidence, when suddenly the end of the staff she was holding glowed green, then transmuted into a blade. Before she could let go, Jason pulled back on the staff sharply, slicing Mystique's hands. Mystique cried out in pain, but was cut off by a blunt blow to the head by a quick swing from Jason's staff. Angrily, Jason followed up with a high kick into Mystique's face, sending her to the ground.

Jason shouted. "How does that feel, huh? Huh?"

Mystique looked at her hand, smiling as the cuts stitched themselves together slowly. She slowly looked towards Jason as her smile returned to its eerie brilliance. "Feels good, boy."

Jason looked a little wavered at Mystique's change of mood, but he tried to stay firm. "Good, I have more where that came from."

"Good." Mystique twisted around, displaying acrobatics that would snap any Olympic gymnast in half.

Jason didn't hesitate. Swinging his bladed-staff around, he struck out at Mystique, making sure to not allow her to grab it again. Suddenly, Mystique kicked Jason squarely in the chest just hard enough to push him away. Recovering, Jason charged again, but Mystique back-flipped away, with one foot striking Jason in the chin.

Mystique landed and stood erect with her smile, taunting Jason merely by standing still. Jason was in no mood for games. He charged in again, but Mystique was ready. Grabbing onto the striated wall, she climbed up it, striking Jason again in the forehead while climbing up into the darkness of the cavern. Jason stumbled back, tripping on his LED lantern, breaking it. Thus the cavern was once again in complete darkness.

Swearing, Jason picked himself up, reaching into his pocket and pulling out his flashlight. Turning it on, he scoped the ceiling for Mystique but she had vanished. Jason looked around some more, listening for any noise that would betray Mystique's location. "Show yourself, Mystique!"

"There's no way you can beat me," came Mystique's voice.

Jason searched around to the source, but the echoes in the cavern made it difficult to tell where the voice came from. "I aim to try!"

"Predictable; a trait you seem to cherish displaying."

Jason knew that he needed to keep her talking in order for him to find her, so he prodded. "Why are you attacking me? I gave you my answer on the rooftop and it hasn't changed at all!"

"_I'm_ attacking _you_? If I recall, you threw the first punch."

"That's because you were spitting bullshit at me!"

"Really? The Professor kept you in the dark regarding my existence. Such a small secret, really. Aren't you wondering what else he might be hiding?"

Jason gritted his teeth. "None of your damn business!"

Mystique seemed to ignore the response. "Something tells me that you do more than wonder: you yearn for it because of what he has already done to you. What were your exact words again? Oh yes: I just can't help feeling that the Professor knows something and he's not telling me."

Jason's tongue caught in his mouth. How had she known about that? He spoke those words to Jean and Scott only this morning. But they were alone! How had she overheard?

"You don't deny it? Such an honest boy…" Mystique taunted. "Tell me, dear. What would you do if I told you that I know why the Professor doesn't trust you."

Jason started to sweat, despite the coolness of the caves. "You're wrong!" he cried out hollowly.

"And how could you possibly know that? You've had your doubts about Professor Xavier since he excluded you from the team when you wanted to rescue your friend, Jean. Have you considered what would you do if your doubts were realized?"

"I don't have to!" Jason cried out. "I trust him!"

"You're lying, Jason. You question his decisions because he is excluding you from the X-Men."

Jason gulped. "It wasn't like that!"

Mystique didn't answer, which began to work on Jason's fraying nerves. Wildly, he shone his flashlight around the cavern, hoping to finally catch sight of Mystique. Suddenly, he heard something behind him. Spinning around, he found Mystique right within reach of him, still smiling cruelly. Jason raised a fist to strike, but stopped himself. Mystique didn't flinch either. Jason struggled with himself, as if he was mentally screaming at his arm to throw the blow, but he couldn't.

Mystique appeared to smile even more. "You see? You're so unsure that you can't even strike your worst enemy…or maybe the Professor has conditioned you so well that you can no longer do what you want."

Jason gritted his teeth. "He is _not_ messing with my head!"

Mystique didn't even blink as he dared. "Prove it. Strike at me."

Jason once again tried to throw his fist out at the metamorph, but again he was frozen. Several tense seconds past between Jason and Mystique as neither moved. Finally, crying out in exertion, Jason turned around and slammed his fist sideways into the nearby cave wall. Ignoring the throbbing pain, he gasped noisily as he glared at Mystique.

Mystique barely moved, but her eyes told everything. Finally, she spoke. "Pity. It seems he's already begun to muzzle you, just like he did Wolverine."

Jason's glare sharpened. "What are you talking about?"

"You think you are the first one that Charles has so cowed? Foolish boy…" Mystique turned towards Jason. "Did you know Wolverine was a ruthless killer before Charles found him? Oh yes…as soon as you looked into his eye, you were already dead. And now look at him: a dog of dear old Charles."

Jason tried not to listen, but her words cut right through his skull it seemed. He had to confess that he knew nothing of Logan's past, and Logan was also a very private person, so he never asked. After all, he didn't need to know. But this? Was Wolverine really a ruthless killer? Shaking his head, he yelled, "You're lying!"

"That's not all. You know your dear friend, Jean? She's a victim too. Did you know she was so powerful as a child that Charles right away went into her mind and put up barriers in her mind so Jean could never reach her full potential? You see, Charles practically lobotomized her."

Jason's eyes bulged at that statement. Mystique was suggesting that the Professor had not just messed with one mind, but two. If that was true, what else has he done? He wanted to believe the Professor didn't do it, or in the very least had a very solid reason to do it, but he didn't know that. Mystique could very well be telling the truth…and if it was, Jason could not face that truth. "No…no…" Jason continued to deny, as he slowly backed away from Mystique, keeping on hand to the wall.

"Of course you would deny it, but you wouldn't know about what he did, so how could you really?" Mystique slowly stepped towards Jason, intent on keeping up the pressure. "And what has he done to you? It seems it's already begun. You can't even do what you want to me."

Jason continued to back away. "No, that's not true!"

"Do you know why Magneto offered you a special spot in the Brotherhood so early? Because when he looks at you, he sees a person that shouldn't be bound, like Charles thinks. You have no idea how much Charles has been manipulating you, how much he's kept from you. Magneto has not hidden anything from you, has he?"

At the mention of Magneto, Jason froze. "Magneto threatened to kill my father!"

"And what will Charles do when you cease to be controlled? He will lobotomize you, child, and then erase you from your parents' memories. You will have never been born."

Jason clasped his hands to his ears. "Stop it!" He took one more step back, and stepped on air. Surprised, Jason flailed about as he tried to regain his balance. Looking back, he found that he had backed up to the edge of the cliff that stood tall over the subterranean river. His foot found solid ground again and he was able to regain balance, but now he was trapped. Mystique was in front, and the river to his back; he was cornered.

Mystique was now only a couple feet away from him. "It's all true, Alchemist. You and all the X-Men have been nothing but puppets for Charles Xavier, and I am here to do one thing: cut the strings." With that, she gave Jason a firm shove.

It all felt like slow-motion. Jason started to fall over the edge, his arms reaching out for anything he could grab. Somehow, his fingers found Mystique's outstretched arm and wrapped around her wrist. Suddenly, both were falling towards the waters below. Both Jason and Mystique screamed as they splashed into the swift currents.

Jason felt like he was punched in the gut; the water was freezing so much that it shocked him. Starting out of his stupor, he clawed his way to the surface of the water, his head breeching out. Gasping for breath, Jason struggled to remain afloat as his heavy clothes began to soak in the chilling water. Looking around wildly, he searched for Mystique. She had not resurfaced. His heart felt like stone. Did he pull her to her death in the river?

Suddenly, a giant, yellow-eyed snake breeched the water and wrapped its coils around Jason's neck and chest. Jason thrashed about as the building pressure in his head made his eyes bulge. The snake pulled him underwater and wrapped itself further around Jason's body. His arms still free, Jason tried to pull the snake's coils away from his throat, but it was too strong. Suddenly, he got an idea. Water had a freezing point of 32°F, and since the water had to be close to that, a simple transmutation might do the trick. Clapping his hands together, he stuck one hand around the snake's head. There was a flash of green, and suddenly ice formed a spiky cocoon around the snake's head. At once, the snake loosened its coils and Jason escaped, swimming frantically for the surface. His head breeched through and he drew a deep breath. Quickly, he began to swim downstream, trying to get away from the snake whom he was sure was Mystique.

As soon as he started, he heard splashing from behind. He didn't dare glance back; he kept swimming hard. Suddenly, he felt something like strong hands grip his ankles and pull him under again. Thinking quickly, he clapped his hands together and twisted around. From his hands, the water froze into a solid log of ice, shooting towards Mystique who had grabbed him. The ice smacked Mystique in the face, forcing her to let go. The ice began to float to the surface. Jason grabbed onto it as it did, which shot him right to the surface. Holding on, he took a few seconds to breathe as his mind tried to work a way out of this mess.

Before he could however, he began to notice a building noise farther down the underground gorge. It sounded like the river was getting more violent. Jason tried to peer down the gorge a bit more, but the river current kept turning his ride around. Suddenly, Mystique appeared once again, this time on top of the ice log. Before Jason could react, Mystique grabbed Jason's arm and hoisted him right out of the water and then wrapped her scaly fingers around Jason's throat.

As Jason tried to pull Mystique's vice-like grip from his neck, Mystique's eyes seemed to burn with disdain as she glared at the young man. "What must I do in order for you to see? You are a pawn of the Professor and once you grow too powerful, he'll lobotomize you like he did Jean Grey."

Jason's eyes shot open in a glare.

"Don't look at me like that, you ungrateful pig. Charles Xavier will only cow you into submission, leaving you unable to do whatever you really want."

Jason's face changed as those words slipped into his mind. Did that mean what he thought it meant? "That sounds…personal…" Jason hissed.

Mystique's eyes widened a fraction, but quickly locked back into a glare. "Don't meddle in things you know nothing about!"

That confirmed it for Jason, but was distracted again by the sound of roaring waters. Straining to look, he noticed the current was speeding up, and the noise was growing quite loud. He tried to see, but still couldn't, but a sinking stone in his stomach told him what it was. He'd better act fast if he was going to get out of this predicament. "Well, whatever he did, to be honest I don't give a damn." Jason peered once again down the gorge as the ice log continued to rotate. Finally, he saw what he needed to see. "There's only one thing I have to say."

Mystique's eyes narrowed further.

Jason smiled and pointed behind the changeling. "Waterfall."

Mystique looked momentarily confused, but realization began to etch across her face as her senses finally registered what was closing in. Turning her head around, she saw the water rushing towards an opening in the wall, and the water vanished as soon as it entered the opening. It was a waterfall.

Jason saw his opportunity to escape and took it. He deliberately fell onto his back, pulling Mystique off her feet. Jason then kicked out savagely, throwing Mystique off of him and into the water. Jason hurried to his feet and saw the waterfall quickly approaching. His eyes searched around for somewhere to leap to, when he saw a ledge just outside and adjacent to the waterfall that looked like it could support him. Scrambling to his feet, he braced himself for a jump as the ice long he stood on reached the crest of the fall. Yelling in determination, he leaped out for the ledge just as his raft plummeted over the fall. Jason's arms flailed as they reached out for safety, and just as gravity began to reclaim him, he crashed onto the ledge.

Coughing, he lay there momentarily as some of his wind was knocked out of him a bit. He tried to ignore the rain that beat down on him from above; the storm from earlier was still raging, and each lightning flash was a severe reminder. Shutting his eyes tight, he tried to block out the thunder as his mind raced to find a way out of this new problem.

Fate however seemed ungracious to the poor boy; as Jason tried to sit up, he became aware of a sound that made his heart skip a beat: the sound of rocks tumbling. Suddenly, the platform beneath him collapsed underneath him. Jason's body tumbled down the steep cliff-side towards the river's bank near the waterfall's bottom. The cliff seemed to slap him over and over as he fell, until he finally slammed into the rocky riverbank, rolling to a stop face-down just beside the river He lay stunned as the rain continued to pour down on him. He couldn't feel anything at the moment, but he knew he was hurt badly. His mind seemed overloaded, unable to carry out even the simplest command. Jason blinked slowly as one last idea came to his mind.

"_Help…me…"_ he managed to think, just before the world went dark.

* * *

><p>Jetting towards the Catskill Ranges as fast as it could, the X-Jet screeched as its afterburners burned white with exertion. However, travel was difficult as rain pelted the Blackbird-class jet, making travel difficult. Despite that, a great wind seemed to sweep the rain in front of the plane away, clearing its path at least for a short distance.<p>

The bubble of clear air didn't seem to satisfy the pilot, however. Logan growled as he tried to see through the pouring rain without much success. "We're going too slow! Spread the sunshine, won't you?"

"I'm not a windshield wiper!" Storm replied, only a short distance behind Logan. She was concentrating deeply, using her power to wrap the X-Jet in a cocoon of fair weather as it were. "I'm doing the best I can. It's hard enough to keep lightning from striking the jet."

"I hope we're not too late," Jean said.

"I'm still not sure just how Jason is in trouble," Scott said, sitting beside Jason. "None of the Brotherhood was on the bus."

Jean replied, "I don't know either. I asked the Professor about what was going on, and he didn't give me an answer; only that he'd tell me later."

Scott looked at Jean. _"Doesn't that sound familiar to you?" _he thought, hoping Jean would pick it up.

Jean did._ "What do you mean?"_

"_Wasn't Jason just sharing with us a few hours ago about feeling like the Professor was hiding something?"_

Jean's mind flashed to the conversation she had with Jason just before he had left on the trip. Jason did in fact say something along those lines: _"I know it sounds awful for me to say, paranoid even, but I just can't help it. I…I just can't help feeling that the Professor knows something and he's not telling me."_ Even then, Jean couldn't understand why the Professor would hide something from them, especially if it was something that was dangerous. _"But what would the Professor hide?"_

"_Beats me,"_ Scott thought. _"But I tell you: I have a bad feeling about this."_

Behind them both, Piotr was sitting quiet, completely unaware of the telepathic conversation Scott and Jean were having. When he heard Jean say to Scott about how the Professor answered her question, his mind instantly remembered his own conversation with Jason earlier that morning. Piotr had more or less asked Jason to trust in the Professor, yet now he found himself developing doubts. Considering Jason's wonderings in addition to Jean's unanswered question, it seemed that the Professor was indeed hiding something. If that were true, was it so important to keep it hidden from the rest of them? Piotr could only guess what it might be. He was curious about it, but he remembered he too had some things that even he kept from the Professor, but that was purely out of shame. If the Professor was hiding something, he guessed it would be for a different reason, and more than likely it was a good one, right?

Meanwhile, the Professor was aware the more oblivious X-Men here were doubtless asking silent questions on why Jason was in serious trouble. He had already decided that once Jason was safe, he would gather the X-Men and all those affected by this revelation he worked so hard to conceal and reveal it to them. He only hoped they would take the news well. In the meantime, he reached out over the range with his telepathy, hoping to reach Jason, hoping the caves did not block his telepathy, and hoping Mystique had not moved in as he expected she would.

"_Help…me…"_

The Professor heard a weakened cry for help whisper through his mind. _"Jason?"_ he called out, his mind automatically homing in on the mind who sent it. _"We're on our way, hold o—"_ The Professor caught off his own thought. He sensed Jason's mind, but it was muddy and opaque, which meant only one thing. "Jason's hurt," he said aloud.

That got the attention of everyone in the X-Jet. "Is he all right?" Piotr promptly asked, his eyes widening.

"More importantly, how are we going to find him now?" Logan said.

Piotr turned to Logan in the pilot's seat. "What do you mean?"

"If Jason is unconscious," the Professor began to explain. "His mind will remain elusive and difficult to track. Unless Jason's regains consciousness, I will not be able to find him through my telepathy."

"Like I said: how are we going to find him now?" Logan growled.

Jean spoke up. "The geology club was going to the Tapoe Caves. It's only been a few hours; I doubt Jason may have gotten far from the caves by now."

"Then let us hurry!" Piotr exclaimed.

"I need you to remain calm, Piotr," the Professor said. "I still have my mind locked onto him, probing him to regain consciousness if I can. Once he does, I'll know where he is."

Piotr looked down, fretting that there was nothing he could do currently, but eventually nodded.

Scott looked out the window. _"Hold on, Jason, we're coming."_

* * *

><p>Jason lay still on the rocks, feeling someone probing his mind, pushing him to wake up. Slowly, his eyes fluttered open yet he remained still. He didn't know how long he was out, but somebody was trying to wake him up. He could imagine only one person capable of doing that?<p>

"_Professor?"_ he thought, believing the Professor would hear it. However, there was no response through the telepathic plane. As a matter of fact, his own thoughts felt cloudy, ringing as if dozens of sleigh bells were ringing in his head. As he fought to remain awake, an alarming suggestion trickled through his head. The Professor knew about Mystique, and where she had been this entire time, and none of the others knew a damned thing. Closing his eyes tightly, he thought to himself. _"Professor…why didn't you tell us?"_

Suddenly, he heard scraping upon rock, as if someone was walking towards him. Picking his head up and fighting the wash of pain that trickled down his neck like hot water, he chanced to peer towards where it came from. Only a short distance away was Mystique, panting but otherwise unharmed. Jason lowered his head; figures his tormentor would escape the waterfall without a scratch.

Mystique glowered down at the boy. "You are a fool! We offer you the chance to transcend far above humanity, and yet you choose to be subjugated. Moreover, you choose to allow yourself to be cowed by a manipulating telepath who will lobotomize you once you grow too powerful?"

Jason's eyes slowly opened, and his reaction surprised even him. He started laughing; rather wheezily, but still laughing. This surprised Mystique as well. "Why are you laughing?"

"You…" Jason wheezed. "You are the fool."

Mystique's eyes widened, but her tongue remained still.

"You berate me for choosing the weaker side, yet you choose yourself to be subjugated by a megalomaniac magnetic-happy magnate."

Mystique's eyes narrowed. "Shut your mouth!"

"Magneto had threatened to kill my father by ripping out the metal plating holding some of his bones together; he tried to kill me the same way. He tried to force me into servitude when I refused. Sounds like _you_ were the one who chose to be subjugated, not me."

Mystique began to see red. "Silence, ungrateful child!"

"Moreover, you haven't transcended a single bit. You'be only been collared like the bitch you are."

"Shut up!" Mystique shrieked, grabbing Jason by the collar of his coat and holding him up. "You sickening, filthy, pathetic, piece of shit! You dare lecture me?" She punctuated her shouts with a ferocious slap to Jason's unprotected face, sending him back to the ground, coughing. "Just wait, Alchemist. Just before the Professor cuts you down from the inside out when you grow too powerful, you will be begging for us!"

Jason worked his way onto all fours. Upon hearing the last prophetic warning, Jason laughed once more, although it resembled coughing. He rubbed his side as he worked his way up, and his hand felt a lump in his coat pocket. His eyes lit up in remembrance: his uniform badge, and with it came a homing device. Reaching in, he gave it a simple press. He continued to laugh. "So you think, but you're wrong. If the Professor chooses to become my enemy…" Jason turned to face his tormentor with the eyes fiercer than any hawk. "…I will fight him. I stood against Magneto, I stood against you…and I will stand against the Professor if it ever arose. So you can go back to Magneto and tell him to get bent!"

Mystique was completely livid. She strode forwards to give Jason a beating of his life, when a sound reached both of their ears, freezing them in place. It was quiet at first, but it slowly began to build into an ominous roar. Both turned to look, and found a terrifying sight: a flash flood.

Countless tons of water came rushing towards them through the narrow gorge, threatening to sweep them away as if they were mere trash. Death would be instantaneous. Mystique instantly changed into a raven and took off flying away, abandoning Jason to his fate. Jason knew that he had the power to stop the flash flood before it got to him, but he was far too weak to summon that much energy. His injuries all but guaranteed a vain attempt as well. There was nothing he could do except accept his fate. Shutting his eyes, he hoped it wouldn't hurt.

Suddenly, a high-pitched screaming sound split the air, one that sounded suspicious like high speed thrusters. As soon as it did, a blast of hurricane-force winds roared up the gorge, striking the wall of water like a hammer. Jason braced himself as the triple-digit wind speeds ripped at him like claws, fighting nightmarish images of the tornado that nearly killed him with similar wind speeds. Suddenly, it dawned on him: these winds weren't natural, so to speak. Daring to glance up, relief shone on him like the sun breaking through dying storm clouds. It was the X-Jet, and on top of it was Storm, using her power to create massive winds to hold back the flood.

"_Jason, we locked in on your homing signal. You are going to be all right…"_ the Professor's mental voice said assuredly.

Just then, the loading door opened, swinging downwards, revealing Wolverine and Colossus ready for a quick rescue. Both braced themselves against Storm's gusts as they looked down and saw Jason laying on the rocks.

"Wolverine! Now! I cannot hold back the flood for long!" cried Storm from her perch.

"We're out of time," Wolverine growled. "Tinman, you can hold up against the wind. Leap down, grab Jason and get on board fast, _capiche_?"

Piotr nodded determinedly, and then leaped into space. The wind clawed at him, but his metal flesh held firm against the assault. He landed with a metallic clang, shattering the rocks he landed on. Recovering, he ran to Jason. "Jason, hold on."

As Piotr helped Jason up, Jason tried to speak, "Peter…I need to tell you something…"

"Do not talk," Piotr said.

"What are you waiting for? Let's go!" called out Wolverine.

Piotr hoisted Jason up in his strong arms and ran for the X-Jet, noticing the water slowing beginning to win against the wind. With all the speed he could muster, he dashed for the X-Jet and climbed aboard. "We are in!" he said.

"Storm, hold on!" Wolverine said, sitting himself quickly in the pilot's seat. "We're about to pull out hard and fast!"

The X-Jet lurched upwards, and all heard the sounds of thousands of metric tons of water crash underneath them colossally. A platform lowered down into the room, carrying a rain-soaked and fatigued Storm back into the safety of the X-Jet. As soon as the overhead latch was shut, she hurried to Jason, who was placed by Piotr on a stretcher in a back room. Scott and Jean were already back there, tending to Jason's wounds.

Jason, however, seemed uncooperative as he lay there, struggling to get up, but Jean wouldn't have it. "Jason, hold still! You'll make whatever injuries you have worse."

"Better listen to her," Scott said firmly.

Jason was insistent. "I need to tell the Professor something!"

Storm was there. "Jason, relax. We need to get you back to the mansion so Hank can examine you. You're lucky to be alive."

"Storm, you don't understand!"

"Jason, please, can it wait until you get better?" Piotr asked concernedly.

"It's Mystique!" Jason gasped. "Ms. Darkhölme is Mystique!"

That silenced everyone in the room. Piotr paled instantly, while the others were frozen at this revelation. Jean finally said. "Are you sure?"

"Positive. She came right out and said it. The Professor needs to know."

"_It's all right, Jason. I already know, and we will discuss this with you later. For now, please remain still as I telepathically tell your brain to send a signal to your pineal gland to release a small amount of melatonin. This will relax you enough until we get to the Institute. Now please, rest. We have much to discuss later…"_

Almost at once, Jason began to feel drowsy. Blinking lazily, he slowly began to drift away into sleep. "But…you…" he managed to say before closing his eyes and falling asleep.

Jean was a little concerned at how fast Jason fell asleep, but a telepathic prompting from the Professor alleviated her fears. "It's okay; the Professor put him into a sleep for now until we get back to the Institute."

"That's all fine and good, but what about what he said?" Scott said. "Our school principal is Mystique?"

"I can hardly believe it myself," Jean said. "But we do know how crafty she is, and how good she is with her own metamorphic powers."

Piotr looked distressed. "She has come back. I knew it was not good for me to go to that school. I knew it!"

Jean looked at Piotr. "Piotr, the Professor wouldn't have let you go there unless he knew you were safe. He probably didn't even know about Mystique in disguise there."

Piotr's face hardened. "Or perhaps he did know, but decided not to tell us."

Scott looked at Piotr. "Simmer down, Peter. You don't know that."

"Jason knew something was wrong. He told me he thought Professor was hiding something, but I did not listen to him. He told you same thing, but you did listen to him? Jason told me about what happened with him and Mystique, and he knew Professor knew too. I thought I trusted Professor, but because he hid truth, Jason was hurt."

Scott pursed his lips. "So Jason gets hurt and you automatically blame the Professor? Good investigating, Sherlock."

His ire roused, Piotr's flesh turned into metal once again. "Tell me, Cyclops, do you think your eye blasts can keep me from beating you?"

Scott reached instinctively for his visor. "Stand down!"

"Stop it!"

Both looked to see an angry Jean Grey glowering at them, her green eyes narrowed fiercely and her hair rippling with telekinetic energy. "God, you two are being a couple of boneheads! We're not going to help anything right now fighting each other, so for now, let's worry about getting Jason back to the Institute and back to health. I don't know what the Professor knows, but I'm going to wait until Jason is in good hands until I ask him. If you two want to help, then help! Otherwise, if you two are going to kill each other, wait at least until we're back at the Institute so you don't blow us out of the sky and get us _all_ killed. Is that too much to ask?"

Both regarded Jean for a few more seconds, and then each other. Finally, Piotr's let his flesh turn back into normal. "I…apologize."

Scott too relaxed. "Yes, so do I. Trust me; I intend to find out what's going on as well."

Jean relaxed, her hair no longer moving. "All of us will."

Meanwhile, back in the cockpit, Storm had just informed the Professor about what happened in the back room. The Professor looked concerned. "I feared Piotr would react this way, and I can only imagine how Jason reacted when he first realized it."

Storm too looked concerned. "What do you plan to do?"

"The only thing we can do now, Ororo:" the Professor said simply. "Tell them the truth."

Logan didn't seem too fond of the idea. "Look, Chuck, I know I told you that you should have told them before, but with the kid looking like he does…well, let's just say Jason is going to remember this, and not in a good way."

The Professor looked troubled. Logan was right: Jason may see this as a broken trust. There's no telling where Jason's loyalties stand now, but if there was one thing that was certain, it was that the Professor was responsible for Jason, and in this, he had failed greatly. He could only hope that Jason could forgive him.

* * *

><p><em>Undisclosed location – Hours later<em>

"You have failed me, Mystique," said a shadowy figure sitting on a throne. "I ordered you to sway the boy to our side, but you have only firmed his resolve."

Mystique stood in the center of the room, trying her best not to scowl at Magneto, despite the fact he was right. Her plan had completely fallen through in swaying Jason, who seemed now more loyal than ever. She had him right where he wanted, and Jason even began to show doubt, but then he suddenly showed some obstinacy and stood up to her, despite his injuries. Just like on the rooftop of the hospital.

"Yeah, way to go, Boss-Lady," said a quick higher-pitched voice.

Mystique shot a glare to Quicksilver, who was leaning against the wall in the room. Before she had a chance to say anything, Magneto said, "Silence, Pietro! Your own blundering lost your chance on probing Jason for proper leverage!"

Quicksilver wilted at that. That was his own embarrassment: being bested by the new guy who threatened to blow his leg off, but settled for a good old-fashioned smack to the back. It was a memory that burned him, and he vowed to get even with him soon.

Meanwhile, Magneto stood up and turned his focus back to Mystique. "I find this a disturbing turn of events, that my best lieutenant cannot achieve a task as significant as this for me. Do you have anything to say for yourself?"

Mystique was seething at this scolding, but she kept it hidden. "The boy is not a lost cause yet."

Magneto's expression didn't change, but his eyes narrowed ever so slightly. "Explain."

"Alchemist showed signs of doubt and questioning. I could see it. He has always believed that the Professor was hiding something from him, and my presence was all but a confirmation to him. Even now, he doubts the Professor. What complicated things was the fact he already doubts you and me. He interpreted it as hostility. He doesn't trust me or you to sway him anymore. If we are to bring him in, we need to send someone of ours he does not know; someone with a gift of a silver tongue in addition to his powers."

Magneto considered this proposition briefly. "Recruiting the boy is still our chief concern, and it will happen, one way or another. Yet what you say is considerable. Can it be done?"

"I am certain."

Magneto sat back down in his throne. "Very well, continue to monitor the boy. Our citadel is nearing completion and he must be primed when it is complete. I have two more tasks as well. First, find the boy Nightcrawler rescued called Forge. His technical expertise will catapult the completion of the citadel. Second, bring me the new schematics of Cerebro. You are free to use any methods necessary. Now, go."

Mystique nodded, and then turned to leave. Quicksilver glared after her as he stewed about the fresh reminder of his own embarrassment at the hands of that punk, Alchemist. His own father was obsessed with him and it sickened him. Here he was, busting his balls doing everything his father told him to do, and here comes this brain-damaged punk that just happens to have more power than he does and everything becomes about him. It wasn't fair! Well, he wasn't going to sit on his rear and just let this dork walk all over him. Heck no! Alchemist was going to pay for embarrassing him. No one ever beats Quicksilver. No one.

* * *

><p><em>Xavier Institute for Gifted Children – The same day, 8:12 PM<em>

Everyone was gathered in the lounge area after the Professor had telepathically called for all students to come to the room. The only one missing among them was Jason, who was in the infirmary being tended to by Dr. Hank McCoy. While they had arrived several hours before, the Professor chose this time to gather everyone to reveal what had been revealed to Jason, particularly the identity of their school principal.

After some murmuring, Jean had taken the floor. "Frankly, Professor, I can't understand why you chose to hide that from us. It's the same as lying to us. We all had the right to know who our principal really was!"

A collective murmur of agreement wormed through those gathered. The Professor remained silent as each of the students took turns in voicing their feelings about this revelation. Joining him were Ororo and Logan, who had shared this secret along with Hank.

Kurt was indignant. "_Ja_, she's right! What did you think we were going to do? Go after her?"

Scott pursed his lips. "We know better than that. You told us before we started going to school to be careful on how we use our abilities. Driving our principal out of the school like a mob would have revealed who we are to the world. Granted, I too would have preferred we knew about her to begin with."

Kitty was incredulous. "It was like we were playing with fire and we didn't even know it!"

Even Tabitha had something to say. "Hey, if you ask me, if she wants to play the quiet game, let her! If she's cool with it, so am I."

Bobby shrugged. "She hasn't been bothering us, so I say we stay cool."

Rogue wasn't happy with the revelation at all. "I can't believe you didn't tell us! After what she did to me, knowing that she was so close to any of us and we didn't even know it is just messed up!"

Of all of them, Piotr seemed the most disturbed and angry. "I trusted you, Professor. We all did, and so did Jason, and look what happened to him because he didn't know? He nearly died!"

Jean spoke up again. "Yeah, Jason knew something was wrong and tried to ask you about it, but you didn't answer him. He told us about this morning to Scott and me."

"And me," Piotr added.

"Jason deserves an apology more than any of us," Kitty said. "He totally got screwed!"

Suddenly, a voice emitted from the doorway. "I think I can speak for myself."

Everyone in the room turned to see Jason, freshly bandaged but otherwise seemed fine, standing in the doorway. Hank was right beside him rather bemused. "He was insistent he'd be a part of this."

Jean nodded. "I think Jason should say something."

Piotr agreed. "He should say something."

All chorused their agreement. The Professor turned to Jason. "Do you have something to say, Jason?"

Everyone was all ears, giving Jason their complete attention. Jason nodded. "Yeah, I do." Sighing, he continued. "Well, I'm sure you are aware that I'm rather aggravated to find out from _her_ of all people that our principal was Mystique the entire time I have been here. For the last month, I've had a bad feeling that you were hiding something from us, ever since the crap with Blob. Mystique was on the rooftop of the hospital back in April, and she was wearing the face of my Dad. My Dad! Mystique is a twisted, sadistic, manipulative…woman, and to find out she is the principal of my school? The thought of it makes my skin crawl…" Jason then relaxed. "But…even with all that, I owe you an apology."

The Professor looked up, surprised at hearing that. Even the others were just as surprised. Piotr had to ask, "Jason, why should you apologize?"

"It was something you said, Peter, this morning. If the Professor has something he isn't sharing with us, he probably has a good reason for it. I don't know what that reason is, but I really should have trusted him a lot more. Mystique found out about my doubts and twisted them up so much that I nearly caved. She said a lot of things that I don't ever want to repeat. She made me doubt you, Professor. She made all of us doubt you."

"Hey!" Kitty objected. "What do you mean by that?"

"I heard you guys," Jason responded. "You all felt betrayed because he chose to withhold something from us, probably trying to protect us. She used that to worm her way between all of us. Had I given in, she might have gotten the rest of you one way or another. Mystique knows exactly which buttons to press to make you do something you might not think you'd ever do. The real question we should be asking is why the Professor chose to withhold that knowledge from us. It wasn't the Professor's fault that I screwed up the training session today, or when I let Mystique beat the shit out of me; it was my fault. It was my own doubts that made me freeze up, because I didn't trust the Professor, despite the fact he sent you guys to help me when Peter and Logan were in deep at the hospital. Instead of letting those doubts plague me, I should have put them away and finished the mission in the Danger Room. Because I didn't, I failed all you guys on the team. I failed to counter Mystique's lies because I chose to believe them. And for all that, I really am sorry.

"I know why the Professor chose Mystique to be in the training today: it was so when I would face her again, I would be ready. Mystique won't give us warning. She'll strike out without mercy, and we must be ready to face her when she does." Jason blinked a few times. "I'm sorry, guys. I failed you all."

Everyone was silent for a long time after Jason bore his soul to all of them. They had all expected Jason to be indignant and angry for all that happened, yet he apologized for being too weak against their shared enemy. The Professor looked at Ororo and Logan—the latter giving a small shrug—and then addressed them all. "Yes, you are right, Jason. You _all_ are right. I must apologize for keeping this secret from you. I thought that such a horrid truth might be too much to bear for many of you, so I kept it from you so you could all focus on your lives without having to worry about an enemy so close at hand. I doubted your ability to adapt and prioritize despite distractions. For that, I am sorry.

"But please, remember this. The world is full of terrifying truths that do nothing but harm, but that's life. There are many challenges in your future, and many of them may take you by complete surprise. Some you are ready for, while others you are not. In the future, I will try my best to discern which is which."

Jason nodded. "Thanks, Professor. I guess we all had something to learn today…but I guess we always do."

"Truer words were never spoken," Ororo said with a smile.

Jason smiled back, and looked at Piotr. Piotr still looked rather stricken about this new revelation, but one look at Jason seemed to calm him. Jason had learned to trust the Professor despite everything he's went through. What kind of person would he be if he didn't as well? Slowly, he smiled back.

* * *

><p><em>Some time later…<em>

Jason lay on the bed in his sleep pants, exhausted and massaging his aching head. The injuries he received were superficial, although just the same, Mr. McCoy asked him to take it easy in case his head was more hurt than his tests determined. Jason had to smile a bit; not bad for falling off a cliff twice.

He glanced at the other bed to see Piotr slowing working on a picture on his art pad. Curiosity demanded he find out what he was drawing, but he stomped it out with the excuse that his head hurt too much to move. Still, ever since the meeting in the lounge, he'd wanted to talk to Piotr. Now seemed a good time as any. "Peter?"

Piotr looked up from his work. "Yes?"

"Are you okay?"

Piotr looked confused. "Why do you ask?"

"Scott told me you were a little upset after seeing me hurt."

Piotr regarded Jason for a little bit, and then turned back to his art pad. "Finding out Mystique had been walking among us for so long brought back memories of before I came here, and seeing you hurt by her infuriated me. I was angry at her, at the Professor…" Piotr paused briefly. "…and just tonight, I was angry at you."

That surprised Jason. Sitting up, he turned to Piotr. "At me? Why?"

"I did not understand why you apologize for what happened. I blamed Professor for what happened to you and wanted you to blame him too…but you did not. Instead you apologize for what happened. I wanted you to be angry for nearly killing you with his secret."

Jason wasn't sure he understood. "Well, if it helps, I was for a little while."

Piotr continued. "You almost died, Jason! For a quick second, I thought we would lose you. I thought _I_ would lose you…" Piotr blinked. "You helped me so much back at hospital; you are best friend. The thought of that monster hurting you was unbearable. I do not want to lose you."

Jason was stone silent for a long time. He knew that he was close to Piotr, mainly for how Jason had assured Piotr in the depths of his depression that he did the right thing. Ever since then, Jason himself had always wondered if Piotr was ok after all that. Even more significantly, ever since Jason arrived, the two boys had formed a very close friendship with each other. However, this was the first time Jason was actually really aware of how close they were becoming. "Uh…wow…I didn't know you cared that much. I mean, I know you care a lot, but…not that much."

Piotr looked at Jason, but remained silent.

Jason sighed as he scratched his head. "You know I meant every word I said tonight, but there was one thing that I didn't say that you really needed to hear as well."

Piotr looked intrigued. "What is it?"

"One thing that really helped me against Mystique this afternoon was knowing that even if the Professor became my worst enemy, I still had friends I could count on to help me whenever I needed it, most of all from you. You are my best friend, Peter. You listened to me this morning when I doubted, and you told me to keep believing in the Professor. You were right, and I should have listened sooner. I might be a lot better off if I did listen sooner, but that's something I won't ever know. Anyway, thanks Peter, for being a friend that I needed more than anything. Granted, Jean gave me a bit of a push or two to realize that, but it's true; you are probably the best friend a guy could ever ask for." Jason smiled. "Thanks."

Piotr looked stunned briefly, but his face slowly began to turn red. His face finally broke with a small grin. "_Pozhaluista._"

Jason nodded. "So, what are you working on?"

Piotr picked up his art pad and showed its contents to Jason, who looked over it, astounded at how well he drew. The two continued to talk about whatever was on their mind until late into the night, knowing that they all learned a rather valuable lesson about trust. While trust can easily be forever broken, a tested trust that endures is by far one of the most valuable assets any friends need to share. Later, as Jason began to fall asleep, he began to wonder just what lay ahead of them. As he did, he remembered that he himself had left a wound deeper than any sword in a friend of his outside the Institute. Suddenly feeling sad, he wondered how he would ever make up for that? Would Jean-Paul even allow him to apologize? Sighing, Jason gave up thinking about it and let himself recover from an otherwise eventful day.

* * *

><p><em>Whew, we made it! This chapter was a challenging one. It went through four distinct drafts before I was satisfied with it. The biggest changes I kept doing were with Jean-Paul, and just how the fight between Jason and Mystique happened, mainly in the dialogue. My chief inspiration for the fights was the first X-Men movie, between Mystique and Wolverine. I had to take my time with this one because of how crucial it is among the chapters. Still, I'm glad I was able to do it, and now we can begin a new chapter.<em>

_Speaking of, here's a preview of __**Chapter 7: Spooks**__._

_Halloween is almost here, and the people at the Institute decide various ways to celebrate. While most go to the Halloween Dance at Bayville High, Jason, Piotr and Rogue decide to spend a night on the town. However, their free night might be wrecked by a speedster hell-bent on revenge and mischief. Will they be able to corral this ghoul, or will pumpkins not be the only thing smashed? Find out next time!_


	8. Chapter 7: Spooks

**CHAPTER 7:**** Spooks**

* * *

><p><em>Xavier Institute for Gifted Children – Thursday, October 27, 2011; 5:37 PM<em>

The mood was growing festive as the sun began to wane in the western sky. Halloween was coming soon, but for many, it had already come. In the kitchen, Jean was wrapping around rough tan-colored fabric tightly around Scott, who seemed fidgety as he sat on a lone chair in the middle of the floor.

"Will you hold still for just a little bit?" Jean demanded, growing frustrated.

"Do you have to wrap it all around so tight?" Scott complained, squirming as narrow strands of cloth were being wrapped around his core.

"Oh no. I'll just let it all unwind by itself and you can trip over it. And if by chance your glasses come off, it will be perfectly all right when you blast half the dance floor into the bay."

Scott growled. "Jason's right: you don't play fair."

Jean only smiled. "I aim to please. Now hold still!"

Just then, Kurt appeared in a flash of brimstone. Tonight, he swapped out his usual holographic projection for one of a pirate. "Arr, me swabbies! Prepare to be boarded!" he said in his best pirate voice.

Scott looked bemused. "Pirate. Original."

Kurt looked mildly stung. "Oh, excuse me, Herr Visor. I suppose a mummy is even better."

Scott half-glared at Kurt. "It was her idea."

"Better than _your_ idea!" Jean replied, crossing her arms. "You didn't even want a costume."

Kurt looked shocked. "Really, _mein fruend_? Who in the world goes to a Halloween Dance without a costume?"

Scott didn't seem the least bit ashamed. "Me?"

Jean sighed. "Oh, be quiet and let me finish this up. We'll be late enough as it is."

"What are you going as, Jean?"

"A cheerleader. I figured it would go well with Duncan's football costume, if you can call it that."

Scott's face wrinkled with annoyance briefly, but no one appeared to notice. Kurt merely said, "And Scott things _my_ costume is unoriginal."

"Yeah, but I really didn't expect much else from him. He's not bad of a guy, but definitely not very artistic," Jean added.

"Oh well, that's why we're the cooler ones. Kitty was able to borrow some of the theatre crew's makeup to become a zombie bride, Bobby's dressing up as James Bond, and Tabitha is going as a sexy nurse. I'm not sure I should ask where she got the outfit."

Jean and Scott looked at each other. Jean answered, "You probably shouldn't. What about the others?"

"Rogue isn't going at all, and neither is Piotr. I was really hoing Piotr would at least want to go; he coops himself in here so much that he's never going to get a girl that way!"

"Leave him be, Kurt. You can't force him to do anything. Piotr is a little shy around crowds, so if he wants to stay here, let him. What about Jason?"

"I don't know," Kurt said. "He's never said anything. I'm not even sure he's going."

"My ears are burning," said a voice from the doorway.

Jean and Kurt looked to see Jason walk in the doorway. In a stark contrast to the rest in the kitchen, he was dressed rather normally: white hoodie, dark blue jeans and boots. Kurt smiled, "They are? Well, in that case, do you want me to pour water on you or just stomp you out?"

"Very funny, Captain Kurt." Looking around, Jason addressed the others. "You guys know where the oatmeal raisin cookies are? I was going to grab a few before I head out."

"They're in the cupboard closest to the fridge," Jean answered.

"Thanks." Jason traveled around the three and towards the aforementioned cupboard.

"Going somewhere?" Scott asked.

"Yeah, I heard there was a haunted house not too far from here. I never been to one, so I thought I'd head over there."

"A haunted house?" Kurt said. "Gee, now I wish I was going to that instead of the dance."

Jason shrugged. "It's going to be open for a few days, so I wouldn't get too down yet. The main reason I'm going tonight is because tonight is one of the few nights left I get a break from the musical rehearsals. As a matter of fact, there's only one more night off before Showtime."

"Yeah, Taryn was telling me about it," Jean said. "Heard it was quite stressful to rehearse too."

Jason smiled knowingly. "You can say that again. There's not a bone in my body that screams to me 'For God's sake, lie down in a hot tub!' It's been quite a challenge to get homework done in addition to rehearsals. Thankfully, we can do our homework during the downtime between scenes were needed."

Scott turned his head towards Jason. "Back to the haunted house, you're going alone?"

Jason shrugged. "Wasn't planning on it."

Kurt beamed. "Well, if you ask me really nicely, I might reconsider going to the dance."

Jason grinned conspiringly, looking at Kurt. "Oh, really, huh?"

Jean interrupted. "Come on, Kurt. You've been talking about the dance for the last month. Why would you just decide to not go?"

"I know," Kurt said.

"I was actually wondering if Peter was up for it, but I haven't seen him since I got back from school."

"He's in a Danger Room session with Logan," Jean replied.

One of Jason's heavy eyebrows shot up slightly. "A solo session?"

"Sort of; Logan and Piotr once in a while lock themselves in the Danger Room and activate any free brawl programs we have. I guess it's a stress relief thing."

"It's quite a mess once they're done though," Scott said. "Last time, we could barely see the floor with all the junk they left."

Jason smiled at the thought. "That explains all the alchemic repairs I have to make once in a while."

"Ah, so you are the one who repairs them so fast!" Kurt cut in. "I always wondered who did that."

"Well, my powers are basically matter and energy manipulation; as long as I know exactly what I'm changing, I can fix just about anything. Electronics are a little tricky though, since I have to be aware just where the wires connect and everything." Jason looked beyond the three towards the door. "You know, I think I'll stop down there and see what's up. Have fun at the dance, guys!" With that, he left them.

Jean decided to do the finishing touches on Scott's costume. "Almost done here…"

"Good," Scott quipped. "But I still feel like a complete idiot."

Kurt smiled. "Then it suits you!"

"Say that again and the glasses come off, fuzzy one," Scott warned.

Kurt blinked. "That…was the lamest threat ever…of all time."

* * *

><p><em>Several minutes later…<em>

Colossus and Wolverine stood among a piled wreckage of drones victoriously. Only a few moments before, all of these robots were out to deal out whatever mayhem they could against the two mutants, but failed greatly. All were smashed or hewn into pieces, destined for the junk pile.

Wolverine retracted his claws, and then cracked his neck as he growled. "Not bad, Russkie. That was even faster than the last time we did this on this level. Game for expert mode?"

Colossus looked disdainfully at the scrap at his feet. "_Nyet_, I want _real_ workout; not more boring exercises."

Wolverine looked at Colossus. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Colossus looked hard at Wolverine. "I want you to cut me."

Wolverine's eyes bulged slightly, only moments before his brow sunk over them. "Kid—"

Colossus glared. "Do not call me that!"

Wolverine's eyes narrowed. "Fine, bub." He clenched a fist, shooting out his trademark adamantium claws. "You see these? These are made of one-hundred percent adamantium. These will stick you like a voodoo doll."

Colossus didn't seem the least bit intimidated. "If I understand correctly, are you afraid of hurting me?"

"Bub, you don't get it—" Wolverine was cut off by a metal fist to the face with a pang, sending his body into the nearest pile of junk. Wolverine picked himself up quickly, the cuts on his body quickly closing. His eyes narrowed fiercely. "Have you gone blood simple?"

"You have gotten soft, comrade," Colossus said unabashed. "We have word for your kind of man:" Colossus' featureless eyes narrowed. "_Sobaka_."

Wolverine brandished his claws and swung at Colossus. Colossus backed up just enough for him to miss, and struck out with a kick to Wolverine's side. Wolverine recoiled, and sprang right back. "All right, you wanted to fight? You got it."

"As you Americans say, 'bring it on.'"

"What brought this on?" said a voice.

Both looked to the side to see Jason, in uniform, standing on a pile of junk not too far from the pugnacious pair. Wolverine growled, "Who invited you?"

Jason looked up towards the observatory high up in the room. "The Professor did. He and I had been watching you two for a little bit now, and he suddenly got a hunch that something was going to go south, so he sent me in here." He crossed his arms. "So…?"

Wolverine retracted his claws. "Ask the Russian."

Colossus crossed his own arms, but remained silent.

Jason was a little surprised that Piotr chose not to speak up. "Peter?"

"_If I may,"_ came a mental voice to the three. _"Wolverine, I would like to talk to you. Jason, if you would be so kind as to talk to Piotr?"_

Jason shrugged. _"I'm game if he is."_

Piotr continued to remain silent.

Logan merely growled. _"Your call, Chuck." _

Jason turned to Piotr. "Come on, Peter. Let's go back to the room."

Logan watched them go only for a few seconds, and then he himself left the room through another way to meet up with the Professor, who was awaiting him in the observation room. It didn't take long for him to get there, which didn't bother Logan any. As far as he was concerned, this was just a little spat. Reaching the door, he opened it and inside the Professor sat in front of the monitors replaying the footage of what happened in the room. Logan looked at them briefly, and then said. "I wasn't really going to slice him."

"All evidence to the contrary," the Professor said calmly. "Logan, my tolerance for your violent tendencies aside, was calling young Piotr out on his challenge a wise decision?"

Logan crossed his arms. "You tell me, Chuck. He wanted to fight me and came right out and said it. Only people I know who do that are either idiots or people who hate my guts, and the idiots are all dead."

"And young Piotr is neither."

"My point exactly."

The Professor crossed his fingers together. "Jason will glean what's going on in Piotr's mind right now, yet I have to wonder why you chose to accept his challenge."

Logan shrugged. "Something stewing in that kid's mind, and sometimes it's better to just let it all out. Scarface kept his own problems inside, and look how good that did him."

The Professor glanced at Logan. "Are you trying to convince me of that or yourself?"

Logan's gaze hardened, but he averted the question. "Even if I swung at him, I wasn't going to hurt him." _"Much."_

"Despite your intentions, he seemed willing to harm you the best he could, barring the fact your mutation enables to survive just about anything."

"Like I said, you tell me. Before, he's never done something like this before."

The Professor considered all that he heard. He had to agree that this was unprecedented behavior for the usually passive Colossus. Piotr had only been staying for about half a year, and had not talked to anyone except Jason regarding past events. He had to wonder if there was some link between those secrets and this sudden change of behavior. The Professor had to sigh; it seemed only Jason would find out.

* * *

><p>As soon as both had left the Danger Room, Jason had picked up the clothes he worn before from his locker and both silently left for their bedroom. There was an uncomfortable few minutes of silence between the two, and Jason tried not to look at Piotr the entire time he got there. If he did, he knew Piotr would say something and Jason didn't want to do that out here "in public" as it were. Yet at the same time, he wondered what just happened in the Danger Room scarce moments before. He just hoped Piotr would feel like sharing once they arrived.<p>

Finally, they reached the room and both entered, the awkward silence continuing to build as Jason sat down in his bed, and Piotr sat in his own. Piotr didn't even look at Jason as he did, and only stared seemingly at Jason's boots instead. Jason finally looked at Piotr, unsure what to say primarily. He just sat there, moving his chin back and forth as a million thoughts raced through his mind each one suggesting his first words. Finally, he sighed, "So…" He pursed his lips as he considered the next words. "…what happened?"

Piotr didn't move, or answer. Jason felt a small bead of sweat trickle down his neck as he leaned over slightly to catch the well-built youth's eye. "Peter?"

Piotr finally looked up, his periwinkle eyes meeting Jason's olive drab ones. Jason blinked in light of how hard Piotr's eyes looked at him. Jason swallowed a bit before continuing. "Peter, I know I'm not the shining example of being forthcoming, but can you talk about this at all?"

Piotr straightened up slightly. "There is nothing to talk about. I wanted new challenge."

One of Jason's eyebrows shot up. "While I see how taking on the Wolverine could be quite a challenge, was that really a good idea?"

Piotr's eyes narrowed slightly. "You tell me."

Jason's eyes narrowed in frustration, but he decided to call him out on it. "Perhaps you're harboring something."

"Why would I be…" Piotr paused at the word he wasn't quite familiar with. "…harboring something?"

"You tell me," Jason said plainly.

Piotr's tongue caught in his mouth at the rebuttal of his own rebuttal. Jason sighed a bit before continuing. "Listen, Peter, I'm not your enemy here. I'm not trying to make you feel uncomfortable at all. I'm just wondering what's going on."

Piotr looked away. "Nothing is going on."

Jason exhaled sharply. "Peter, when I ever said that to you, did you ever believe me?"

Piotr looked back at Jason, yet his tongue tied itself to the roof of his mouth again.

Jason continued to prod. "You don't have to answer that, because I already know you didn't. For good reason, because every time I said that was a bold-faced lie. Even though I didn't want to talk, you knew I needed to. And eventually, I would cave, even if it wasn't necessarily to you. I really feel bad for not trusting you with my feelings, Peter, and I really want to make that up to you. But right now, is it all right if I can at least try to be a listening ear for you…just like before?"

Piotr could only stare as Jason's words trickled into his head, and finally he hung his head in shame. "This…Halloween holiday…it is celebrated with children going to houses and asking for treats, _da_?"

Jason blinked a few times, wondering what brought this question up. Slowly, he said, "Well…sometimes, yeah. It's the usual celebration anyway. Why?"

Piotr's gaze looked outside. "Do you think Illyana would have liked it?"

Jason's brow fell over his eyes in befuddlement. "Illyana?" Suddenly, his eyes lit up. "Wait…I know that name." Jason placed a hand over his eyes and brow as he concentrated. _"Where have I heard that name before?"_

"She is my sister," Piotr reminded.

Jason looked up, his eyes lighting up in understanding. "That's right! You told me about her: your little sister that was really badly sick." Jason caught his tongue as his mind finally caught up with it. The question about Halloween, the follow-up question with her terminally-ill sister; they all began to connect. "You miss them, don't you?"

Piotr pursed his lips as his throat constricted, preventing a verbal answer. Finally, he nodded.

Jason closed his eyes tight as he remembered the pith of Piotr's story of coming to the Institute, and it was a saddening one. Piotr was once an Acolyte of Magneto, becoming one in exchange for treatment of his sister's cystic fibrosis. However, his indentured servanthood soon became slavery by hostage. Piotr had only escaped thanks to a chance encounter with Wolverine and eventually the intervention of the X-Men. Despite the successful rescue, in order for Piotr's family to be safe, Piotr couldn't know where they now lived in case he was ever captured by Magneto. It seemed that there was no happy ending for him.

Jason looked out the window, imagining how many trick-or-treaters were getting ready for a night of candy harvesting. He never saw Illyana obviously, but his imagination began to paint an image of a little girl with periwinkle eyes, dark hair in a ponytail, dressed up in a cute little costume and going house-to-house gathering any stores of candy she could, all the while being closely followed by Piotr, making sure she doesn't take—or eat—too much. Jason half-smiled at the thought, but quickly wiped it off his face as he remembered this was only fantasy. The current reality was much more somber. Looking at Piotr again, he managed to say, "Yeah, I think she might of…as long as you were there."

Piotr let those words sink into his mind, and lowered his head. Jason could only look on sadly, but then remembered his original intent. "I can't imagine how hard that would be, Piotr, but there's still one thing I don't get. Does this have anything to do with you attacking Wolverine?"

Piotr sighed. "No…well…not exactly."

One of Jason's heavy eyebrows rose slightly. "Not exactly?"

"It hard to explain." Piotr sighed sharply, trying to shake the damp thoughts from his head. "When I escape Magneto, Wolverine saved me and my sister from Deathstrike."

Jason nodded, showing he was still following.

"Wolverine is powerful opponent, and so is Deathstrike…and Magneto."

Jason pursed his lips as he remembered the aforementioned two. "You can say that again."

"Yet Wolverine can get beat. If I learn how, I could beat Deathstrike."

Jason blinked. "Why would you even _want_ to fight her?"

"To prove myself."

That simple answer took Jason completely by surprise. "To prove yourself? To prove what?"

Piotr's gaze hardened slightly. "That I am strong enough to fight my battles; that I could have fought and not run."

Jason was incredulous. "What?! Peter, you ran because you had to get your sister out of there. If you fought, both you and your sister could have been killed!"

Piotr looked offended. "If I am strong enough, that would not happen!"

Jason pursed his lips in annoyance. "You can't guarantee that, and besides, who said you weren't?"

That question gave Piotr pause. Jason quickly followed up before Piotr could argue. "Peter, you are the strongest mutants I've ever seen. You went one-on-one with a kid who bench presses monster trucks at a fair attraction. Peter, you are more than strong enough. You could kick Wolverine's or Deathstrike's ass over the moon if you wanted to! I know that! You know that! We _all _know that! Who are you trying to prove it to?"

Piotr lowered his head, properly rebuked but he was still stubborn. "I must grow stronger. I must protect my family from whatever attacks."

Jason relaxed a bit. "I understand wanting to protect your family—"

"No, you do not!" Piotr cried out, startling Jason. "You can see your family when you please, but I cannot! If I do, Magneto might find them! And if he find them other way, I need to be stronger to fight him."

Jason could only stare at hearing Piotr's outburst while his mind digested what he just heard. Finally, Jason asked, "Has this been on your mind for a while?"

Piotr looked away. "Every day."

Jason looked saddened. "Peter, why didn't you tell me?"

Piotr looked at Jason, saddened himself. "What could you do?"

"Listen?" Jason replied plainly.

Piotr's eyes widened a fraction.

"Peter, we've been friends for what now, two months? I don't remember you mentioning this at all. In fact, the only time I ever heard you talk about the past was when I was in the hospital. There's not a day that goes by that I don't want to ask you more about it."

"Why did you not?"

Jason pursed his lips, and looked out the window. "Because I care."

Piotr again found himself unable to speak.

"I may be a jackass, Peter, but I'm not an idiot. I know how much the past hurts you, and I don't ever want to reopen those wounds. I…I just can't. I don't ever want to hurt you. You've been through enough…" Jason wiped his mouth. "Yet I know that keeping things bottled up is a horrible pain on its own; I learned that the hard way. You saw how miserable I was during the hurricane? I don't ever want you to feel that kind of pain. You need to let it out."

Piotr was touched. One thing he dreaded was answering any questions from anyone regarding his past with Magneto. He always felt the question was on everyone's tongues when they looked at him, and in response he often withdrew from the others. While Jason had admitted he too wanted to talk to him about it, he cared enough to keep his curiosity restrained. It helped that Jason already knew something of Piotr's past, but not everything.

Despite that, Piotr's throat locked down again, as if his own body was trying to keep him from sharing the dark thoughts in his own mind. "I…I just can't." He said.

Jason blinked slowly; he hated seeing Piotr suffer like this. He knew Piotr needed to talk about this, now that his pent-up feelings were now clawing at the fence, trying to get out. He needed to do something quick.

Jason's eyes lit up as an idea dawned on him. Getting up, he strode for Piotr's dresser. Piotr watched him go. "Jason?"

Jason did not respond as he slid open a drawer half-way down, digging through the clothes. Selecting a black sweater, he tossed it at Piotr. "Change."

Piotr caught the sweater. "Jason, what are you doing?"

Jason pulled his bag up on the bed, carrying the clothes he was in earlier. "Change," he repeated more assertively as he pulled his own uniform off.

Piotr began to pull off his own uniform, but continued to ask. "Jason, what is going on?"

Jason kicked off his boots. "You've been stuck at the Institute for too long. I'm declaring an intervention."

Piotr laid his uniform top aside. "Intervention?"

"Yes, and my demands are simple:" Jason pulled on his jeans. "A night out."

"Night out?"

Jason grabbed a T-shirt. "A night out on the town. We're going to get out of this musty room and do something fun." Jason looked hard at Piotr. "And I'm not taking 'no' for an answer. Now hurry up, the night ain't getting any younger."

Piotr slowly continued to change his clothes. "But—"

Jason interrupted. "Peter, for as long as I've been here, I've never seen you do anything for fun beyond your drawing and spending at least an hour in the lobby each Friday to watch _Will & Grace_. Doing those is perfectly okay, but have you ever thought about just going out and enjoying the night?"

Piotr looked at the sweater he was given. When Jason had put his activities that way, it did seem like he never got outside much. "No," he said.

"Well, why don't we change that? Ever been to a haunted house?"

Piotr looked back at Jason. "Why would you want to go to a place like that?"

Jason smiled. "Because it sounds like it'd be fun. I was actually getting ready to go to one before I came downstairs. I was going to ask you to come with me, because I heard they're not fun by yourself. Now, come on! Get dressed and I'll tell the Professor we'll be out for the night."

Piotr saw down on his bed. "I don't know."

Jason pulled on his hoodie, and then looked at Piotr. "Peter, please. If anything, it will take your mind off of things for a little while." Jason half-smiled, his eyes pleading. "Please?"

Piotr looked at Jason's eyes, and at once found himself wanting to smile as well. Finally, he nodded. "All right."

Jason pumped a fist triumphantly. "Awesome!" Standing up, he put a hand to his head and began to say in thought, _"Professor? Is it all right if Peter and I hit the town for the night? I think we both need to just get away for a while."_

Jason could feel a brush of amusement cross his mind. The Professor replied. _"It will do you both well, Jason. Feel free to borrow the X-Van for the evening for transportation. The keys will be in the ignition of the X-Van."_

Jason half-smiled. _"Ooh, careless much?"_

"_Perhaps, but I would pity the poor soul who would come and attempt to steal a vehicle with Logan patrolling the grounds."_

Jason's eyes widened slightly. _"Good point. We'll be leaving in a few minutes. Thanks, Professor!"_ Jason let his thoughts quiet as he looked at Piotr, who was just finishing changing. "You ready?"

Piotr looked at Jason. "Y-yes," he stammered. "Are you sure about this?"

Jason smiled. "No, but that's the fun of it. Don't worry, we'll have fun. Let's go!"

Jason and Piotr then left the room. As they went, Piotr couldn't help but remember what they were talking about before Jason's abrupt change of behavior. At once, he began to feel sad and conflicted about what he did, and subtly felt the call for his room again. Still, he didn't want to upset Jason since he seemed excited about going out. Piotr sighed; he hoped he wouldn't regret this.

* * *

><p><em>Daily Bugle, New York City<em>

"PSATs? What kind of bonehead decided that was a good idea?"

Leaving one of New York City's many news buildings was a lanky teen, toting a backpack slung over his shoulders and a sour look etched on his face. Peter Parker by all appearances was your average teenager caught between school, a job and no free time. At seventeen years old, Peter was college hunting like others age might, and was just voicing his disapproval for practice entry examinations for many universities he was interested in. On top of that was his job. Being a photographer for a well-red newspaper such as the Daily Bugle was stressful enough, but when his boss' personality matched his moustache, working at the Bugle could be comparable to slave labor. He had no idea what motivated him to continually return to such a terrible job, but he knew he would need the money for college, as well as for his extracurricular activities.

Chancing upon an alleyway, he looked around warily at the street bustle around him. Cautiously, he stepped into it, venturing further in until he was hidden in the shadows of the twilight atmosphere. Alone, he began to strip off his clothes, revealing a red-and-blue uniform that appeared to be made of spider webs, and to further enforce the theme, a black spider emblem sat on Peter's chest. The odd fashion sense seemed lost on its wearer as Peter continued to remove parts of his outer wear and slip on gloves and boots of similar make, all the while complaining.

"So, I have to study my bony little ass off for a practice test for a mega-test. A practice test! What the hell, man? You've seen my grades, buster? I should be a shoe-in! What? Just because gym isn't my best class, I don't think it has anything to do with getting into MIT or GW, right? You know what I think? SATs should only be for the dorks who _don't_ have straight As." Towards the end of his rant, he pulled out a red-webbed mask with two large pure-white eyes dominating it. "Not to mention that I don't even have the time to study for something as stupid as a practice test, not with Grand Moff Jameson breathing down my neck." Pulling on the mask, he wrapped his rant up with, "And on top of that, this suit itches!"

Slinging his backpack back over his shoulders, the irate Spider-Man stuck his arm out, firing a strand of web that stuck to the building, and hoisted himself up. Upon reaching the top of the Daily Bugle, he looked out over the city as the sun disappeared to the west. As a boy, he was bitten by a genetically-enhanced spider that had escaped from some laboratory, granting him inhuman abilities, such as enhanced flexibility, proportionate super strength, and a precognitive ability—which he called spider-sense—that has saved him from danger more than he cared to admit. At first, he wanted to use his powers for profit, but his late uncle gave him some food for thought that forever changed his outlook. It was then when Peter Parker really became Spider-Man.

For the last two years, he'd been fighting crime of all sorts in this city from carjackers to the Mafia, foregoing the occasional octane-driven supervillain, mainly alone. He knew he wasn't the only superhero in this city: off the top of his head, there were the Avengers, the Fantastic Four, as well as some "lesser-knowns" like the Daredevil of Hell's Kitchen. The Avengers were headquartered at the Triskelion, which doubled as a prison for the "especially dangerous," and was shared by S.H.I.E.L.D, while the Fantastic Four were holed up in the Baxter Building. However, those groups of heroes seemed more interested in taking down bigger fish than the ones Spider-Man were webbing up. Figures, really.

As Spider-Man looked out over the city, his gaze shot over the Long Island Sound. Very seldom did he venture beyond the city center, but once in a while he wondered things were any busier or not beyond his normal territory. A part of him never wanted to go beyond his normal territory, because if he found more trouble out there, he'd have to deal with it and keep checking in on it. On the other hand, a change of scenery would be nice, and it wasn't all that far from here.

Suddenly, he felt something vibrate in a pocket in his backpack. Whipping it off, he dug around and withdrew a cellphone from it. Glancing at the collar ID, he smiled behind his mask. Pressing a button, he held the phone to his ear. "Hello, you have reached the phone number of Peter Parker. I'm sorry he couldn't answer the phone right now, but please leave a name and number so that I may return the call promptly in a couple of decades."

A voice came across the other side. _"Oh, aren't you a barrel of laughs?"_

"Sorry, MJ. It's probably the most amusing thing to happen to me today."

"_Another usual day?"_

"You got it."

"_I still don't understand why you can just find another job at another newspaper. You've already told me that being a photographer lets you get away to do your other job more easily, but why do you have to stay at the Bugle?"_

"I've been asking myself that for two years, MJ. Myself still hasn't called me back."

"_Well, I was calling to ask if we were still on for Saturday."_

"As long as Mein Fuhrer doesn't paste me with a big headline to shoot for, I think so…" Spider-Man looked thoughtful despite the fact this features were hidden underneath his mask. "…and as soon as I said that, I realized how much I may have just jinxed myself."

"_Well, I hope not. Anyway, I have a ton of homework I have to do, so bye!" _

"Bye." Spider-Man hung up and returned the phone in his bag. Looking back over the cityscape, he looked towards Long Island again. _"Well, I guess a little swing over isn't going to hurt. After all, it looks slow here in the Big Apple tonight."_

* * *

><p><em>Bayville High School, 6:46 PM<em>

It wasn't long after Jason and Piotr left the Institute did the rest of the Institute youths arrive at Bayville High for the Halloween Dance. Already, pockets of costumed teenagers were already making their way to the gymnasium where the dance was about to begin. Scott, Jean, Kitty, Kurt, Bobby and Tabitha walked into the gymnasium, and their respective senses were assaulted with loud music and LED lights glittering in various hues and patterns.

"Now this is how going to school should be: lots of noise and music! Woohoo!" Tabitha exclaimed, taking off deeper into the crowd.

"Well, at least someone is going to have a good time," Scott said ruefully.

Jean half-glared at Scott. "Not with that attitude you won't."

"How did I agree to this?" Scott groaned. "I feel like a Christmas present."

Kurt smiled. "Well, we can always find someone dressed as a tree to hang out with."

Scott growled.

"Come on, Fearless, just loosen up and enjoy the party!" Kitty said, taking off herself.

Kurt quickly followed. "Hey! Wait up, my undead bride!"

Kitty's voice interjected. "In your dreams, Count Fuzzy!"

Jean had to smile a little bit at Kurt's and Kitty's shenanigans, but sobered enough to assure Scott. "Scott, I brought you along so you could relax a bit more. You even said yourself it wouldn't hurt for you to relax a bit after we rescued Kurt from the Middleverse."

Scott sighed. "I know…but this isn't what I had in mind."

Jean crossed her arms. "And what _did_ you have in mind?"

Scott made as to answer the question, but no answer for it came to his lips. "I…really don't know."

Jean rolled her eyes. "Honestly, Scott. Sometimes I wonder you ever know what you want ever. You're so concerned about what you need that you've forgotten about the thing you just want to do. It's a wonder why I've ever—" Jean bit her tongue as the words she nearly said stuck in her head.

Scott however picked up on it. "Ever what?"

Jean replied quickly. "Never mind." Jean turned away. "Do what you want, I'm going to find Duncan."

Scott watched Jean go with a sinking heart, berating himself for being a stick in the mud as he sat down on the bleachers along the gym's perimeter. He knew he was a bit of a hardass about being serious about things, and he thought he was getting better at it for the past month. Guess not.

This wasn't the first time Jean had reproached him for being uptight about something, and Scott had often countered with a reason on why he was. These arguments, while not frequent, were periodic, and the result was the same. Scott would be sorry, and Jean would be understanding. In addition, Scott would wonder why the heck he had not approached Jean earlier to become involved in a relationship, and had chafed when it was too late. Looking up, he espied Jean, having found Duncan, giving the football star the smallest peck on the cheek. That peck might as well been a full-fledged kiss to Scott. Seething, he gripped the edge of the seat like talons as his teeth ground against each other like whetstones.

"Excuse me?" said a pleasant voice.

Scott looked to see a very attractive blond woman looking at her, dressed in a conservative nurse's outfit. Scott recognized her as Alison Blaire, the most popular girl in school, and upcoming starlet for the musical in a couple weeks. "Oh, hi Alison," Scott sighed.

Alison noticed something was amiss. "Something wrong?"

Scott snuck one last glance at Duncan and Jean, suppressing the urge to blast Duncan with a look, before responding. "No, nothing at all," he said quietly. Louder, he asked, "Did you need something?"

"You're one of those guys from the Institute, right?"

A muscle jumped in Scott's throat, thankfully hidden by the semidarkness of the gym. "Why do you ask?"

"You friends at all with Jason, the new kid?"

Scott's apprehension instantly changed to confusion. "Well, I know him anyway."

"Is he here?"

"No, he decided not to come. He was heading for a haunted house tonight."

Alison looked down slightly for the briefest of moments. "Oh, well when you see him next, can you tell him I need to talk to him?"

Scott blinked behind his shades. "Okay. Anything you want me to tell him in particular?"

Alison looked as if she was considering further detailing to her request, but then shook her head. "No, just tell him I need to talk to him. Well, good night, Scott." With that, she left without another word.

Scott watched him go, his mind slowly processing the last few moments. What could the most popular girl in school want to ask the school newbie about? One wild idea came to his head, and he immediately squashed it. Unlikely it was, it certainly was entertaining, unlike what he was looking at earlier.

Glowering, he felt that this was going to be a long night.

* * *

><p><em>Fifteen minutes later…<em>

Elsewhere at the dance, a white-haired figure was watching from the sidelines, intent of giving hell to a particular person. Pietro Maximoff was alone, none of the rest of the Brotherhood here, but he didn't care. The fun he was hoping to have didn't involve dancing or costumes. He was here to make sure Jason would have the worst night of his life. As far as he was concerned, Jason was now completely free game, especially after an embarrassing failure by Mystique.

However, there was one small problem: Jason was nowhere to be found. He had watched for the rest of the X-Men to arrive, but Jason wasn't among them at all. That annoyed Pietro like no other. This was the perfect spot for Jason to be humiliated, and he doesn't even show up? He had a dozen ways planned to humiliate him and now that was all wasted. Next time he saw that little dweeb, he was going to give him a swift kick in the—Pietro stopped his thoughts as his ears began to pick up a nearby conversation at the refreshment table. Looking over, he saw Kitty and Tabitha talking. Impulsively, he bolted under the table in the blink of an eye, listening.

Kitty cut herself off. "Whoa, is there like a breeze in here?"

Tabitha blew it off. "Who cares? It felt good anyway. You know, sometimes I wonder who chooses the music for these dances anyway? Boooring!"

"You said it. You'd think someone around here would know some good bands, but everything here is so last millennium!"

"Even Jason has better taste in music than this."

"Oh, leave him alone. Sure, his favorite artist is Kenny Chesney, but he's totally cool…"

"And cute too."

Kitty and Tabitha shared a laugh, while Pietro tried his hardest not to retch.

"Too bad he didn't come," Kitty said.

"Hey, if I had known the music was going to be this bad, I would have gone to the haunted house with him."

Kitty laughed. "I totally would have gone to the haunted house too. Maybe we could like ditch this place and find a ride over there."

Kitty and Tabitha left the table, unaware of Pietro's presence. His grin carved itself nicely across his face. So, Jason was at a haunted house, huh? Then that's where he was heading. Like lightning, Pietro took off from underneath the table and out the door.

* * *

><p>"<em>This<em> is haunted house?" exclaimed Piotr.

Jason looked at his pamphlet. "Looks like it."

Piotr looked confused. "Is not a house…is warehouse!"

Jason grinned as he looked at Piotr with a bemused expression. "Get real, Peter. Did you really think there are haunted houses like in _Scooby Doo_ in Bayville? We're just outside New York City!"

Piotr looked at Jason. "I…guess…but how is this warehouse haunted?"

Jason tried his hardest not to laugh at Piotr's naïveté. "Peter, this is just an attraction. There are no real ghosts or zombies. It's just a little getaway for people to just go through and scare the crap out of themselves. It's a great way to air out all the crap one can get in day-to-day life." Jason sighed. "God knows how much that piles up, and how fast." Looking back up at Piotr, he seemed to cheer up again. "Come on, let's get inside."

Jason strode towards the doors, while Piotr hesitated as his mind processed the explained psychology of this place. It wasn't the first time he thought about how some people just want to be scared. He was aware of Bobby Drake's love of what he called "proper horror movies," but he was always mystified by why someone would want to scare themselves to death purely out of entertainment. Jason's explanation did shed some light on the matter, yet Piotr still found himself wondering why people would choose a scare as a form of stress relief. He himself had found that exercise and the spars he had with Logan relieving…until today. And here he was, dragged along by Jason to chill out for the evening in an unusual way.

Sighing slightly, he made his way into the warehouse-like building. Upon entering, he found that there was a building within the building, and that it was quite a different site from the rather ordinary warehouse exterior: it looked to be made of rotting wood and spider webs, with broken glass windows and incredibly rusty-looking doors. It was every inch the haunted house Piotr had expected one would look like.

"Well, there you are, you big goof!" said Jason.

Piotr looked at Jason, mildly startled at Jason's sudden appearance. "I…I am sorry…I was thinking."

Jason looked at the rather haunting piece of architecture nearby. "Quite intimidating, isn't it?"

Piotr's eyes washed over the seemingly decaying house. "Is it safe?"

Jason looked at Piotr. "It's a haunted house, Piotr." Jason smiled. "Sorry, just teasing. It just looks really run-down, but it's just designed that way. I sincerely doubt that when we step inside the floor will collapse underneath us…" Jason looked away, looking thoughtful. "…well, unless it was scripted."

Piotr looked at Jason, his eyes widening slightly.

Jason rose up his hands. "I'm just saying that everything about the design is purely to unsettle us, not hurt us. It's all cosmetics, s'all."

Piotr sighed. "I see…"

Jason scoped the lobby. "We still have to wait a few minutes before we can get inside. A group went in a few seconds before I secured a spot for us. We'll just have a seat befo—" Jason's tongue caught in his mouth as his eyes caught a familiar figure entering the door not too far from them. The figure barely entered himself and had noticed Jason, automatically locking eyes. By pure reflex, Jason looked away, a haunted look on his face.

Piotr noticed immediately. "Jason?"

Jason didn't answer nor move. Perplexed, Piotr looked around and saw the figure Jason had seen and quickly turned away from: a rather lean youth with dark flowing hair that seemed to shimmer with white as it reflected the light.

Piotr smiled a little bit as he recognized the figure: Jean-Paul Beaubier, one of the few friends he has made at Bayville High in the past two months. His smiled faded however as Jean-Paul's eyes caught Jason again, who had not moved, and his face began to cloud over. Piotr looked at Jason, looking concerned. Jason had informed Piotr about what had happened in the cave between him and Jean-Paul, and how Jason said something he shouldn't have and severely hurt Jean-Paul as a result. It seemed that wound was still fresh, as is Jason's shame of it. "Jason, why don't you go talk to him?" he whispered.

Jason pursed his lips. "I can't. I don't think he'll ever forgive me for what I said."

"You never know until you ask."

Jason looked at Piotr sadly. "Peter, I called him a faggot. To someone who is gay, that's the equivalent of calling a black man a nigger. Ergo, it's one of the worst things to call someone. I even told him that we were never friends at all." Looking away ashamedly, he asked. "Tell me, Peter. What would you think of a person who did that?"

Piotr had the answer to that question at the tip of his tongue, but quickly bit it back. The last thing Jason needs was his best friend's personal feelings heaping on more regret. "You did not mean it, Jason."

Jason looked even more pained. "That doesn't matter! Have you seen the news? Kids my age are offing themselves because of bullying. Back home, I stood up against bullies, and just two weeks ago, I acted just like one. If Jean-Paul does something drastic to…get away from it all…it will be my fault!"

"Jason, you know Jean-Paul would not do that."

"And how would you know that? All it takes is one push, just one stupid little push, and then it would be all my fault."

Piotr put a heavy hand on Jason's shoulder. "Then you should talk to him; you could stop it."

Jason looked at Piotr, a boulder caught in his throat. He knew Piotr was right, but he was too chicken. Jean-Paul could lash out with his own hot words, and Jason knew he deserved every single one of them. Yet here he was like a little kid, withering away from the threat of pain. "I…I can't. I'm too scared."

Piotr sighed. Jason was once again closing up, just like he does when he's dealing with personal problems. Whenever this happened, he was always advised to give Jason his space until he opened up again. "Is it all right if I talk to Jean-Paul while we wait?"

Jason chanced a glance towards Jean-Paul before quickly looking away. "Sure," he said despondently as he sat down on a bench.

Piotr looked sadly at Jason for a brief moment before turning his back on him and walking towards Jean-Paul. Attempting to shove the dark thoughts in his mind, he put forth a small smile. "Hello, Jean-Paul."

Jean-Paul looked at Piotr. "Hey, Piotr! What are you doing here? I didn't peg you for the haunted house type."

Blushing a little bit, he said. "I-I am not. Jason asked me to come…so I did."

Jean-Paul glanced at the pitiful form of Jason several paces away. Looking back at Piotr, he said, "He did, huh? That was…nice of him," he managed to say.

Piotr tried not to do anything awkward. "Yes…yes, it was." He changed the subject. "I thought you be at dance tonight."

Jean-Paul shook his head. "What, and get all dressed up for something completely boring? Count me out. Besides, it's been a while since I've been to a place like this."

At that moment, another joined Jean-Paul after procuring his own duo of tickets: a dark-skinned late teen with springy curly hair. At once he noticed Piotr. "Oh, hello, who are you?"

Jean-Paul regarded the new arrival. "Hey now, don't be stiff. Kyle, this is Piotr Rasputin. I sit next to him in art class. Piotr, this is Kyle Jinadu, a really good friend of mine from Commack High. We met at a winter sports competition this past winter."

Piotr offered a hand. "Pleased to meet you."

Kyle took it. "The same; I'm sorry for the third degree. Jean-Paul told me about an encounter he had with a classmate of his and yours a couple of weeks ago, and it really ticked me off."

Piotr felt his blood chill. Did Jean-Paul tell people about Jason's outburst in the cave? Did Kyle know that Jason was in fact in the room?

Jean-Paul looked condescendingly. "Kyle, I asked you to come along so we could forget about it. It's not the first time people have call me a f—" Jean-Paul bit his lip briefly before correcting himself. "—that."

Kyle looked annoyed, but relented. "Yeah, I know. I still wish you told me who the guy was, because I would love to give him a kick in the ass."

Piotr sighed with relief. Kyle didn't know, nor did Jean-Paul tell him.

"It's been two weeks now, and he hasn't said a peep about it. Heck, I haven't talked with him at all since then, even though we see each other practically every night for musical rehearsals. Of course, the past month and a half he's been very quiet." Jean-Paul looked at Piotr. "What do you think?"

Piotr blanched at being addressed. "Sorry?"

"Come on, Piotr. You and I both now that—our mutual friend and you are really good friends. Hasn't he told you at all about anything, or more specifically why he's been more reclusive about matters?"

Piotr had to will himself to not look at Jason as the impulse to shot straight to his head. Thinking quickly, he replied slowly, "Well…he always have hard time…sharing feelings. If you press to hard, he get angry. He has bad temper."

Jean-Paul seemed to accept that answer. "Yeah, he does rather snippy if he thinks you're asking too many questions." Then quietly, he added. "I learned _that_ the hard way."

Suddenly, Jason called over to Piotr weakly. "Hey, Peter! Our number's almost up!"

Piotr looked at Jason, then back at Jean-Paul. "Well…I have to go. I am sorry, Jean-Paul."

Jean-Paul had a knowing glint in his eye. "Yeah, I guess you do."

Piotr tried not to be terribly awkward. "_Da_…well…have…fun?" Piotr blushed redder than a beat before leaving them.

One of Kyle's black eyebrows shot up. "Well, that was not awkward whatsoever." Looking at Jean-Paul, he continued. "Does he always get so embarrassed?"

"More often than not," Jean-Paul said with a wry smile. "He always looks so damn cute when he does too."

Piotr tried not to blush even further when he heard that remark. Shorter than he expected, he rejoined Jason from where he was sitting. Aside from calling out to him, Jason had barely moved an inch. Jason looked up, "You ready?"

Piotr looked over the haunted house once again. "I suppose." Looking back at Jason, he asked, "Are you so you don't want to talk to him?"

Jason stood up, straightening out his clothes as he replied. "I assume he's here for the same reason we are. Why should I ruin it for him?"

"But—"

Jason looked at Piotr. "I know what you're going to say, Peter." He sighed remorsefully. "I know I have to apologize for everything I said to him…but I haven't even forgiven myself for it. How can I expect him to forgive me if I can't even forgive myself? Moreover, why should he forgive me? He doesn't owe me a thing."

"You are his friend, Jason," Piotr replied. "I am sure he will forgive you if you ask."

Jason didn't look reassured. "I don't know if I am his friend anymore, Peter. Not after that day." Jason shook his head. "Come on, we're almost up in a few minutes. I don't want to talk about this anymore tonight."

Piotr sighed sadly. Jason was being stubborn despite the fact he was bringing up a lot of things to consider. That seemed to be his defense mechanism: come up with seemingly sound reasons to not do something when confronted with what needed to be done. When that didn't work, he would lock down; a continuing problem in Jason's psyche. There was nothing he could do about it now.

Looking at the haunted house once again, he recalled, _"How did you say it? Air out bad feelings?"_ Sighing, he thought, _"I hope so for your sake, Jason."_

* * *

><p>Little did Jason or Piotr know that they had been observed by someone not too different from themselves. "Hmph, give them gay marriage and they can't stay away from each other." Spider-Man quipped after witnessing Jason and Piotr enter, followed by Jean-Paul and Kyle. Spider-Man had reached the Bayville area not too long after leaving the Daily Bugle, and discovered that it seemed quite peaceful, much unlike the never-sleeping heart of New York. "Guess it pays to be on the ass-end of the state of New York." He said to himself. "See, maybe that's what I should be: the friendly neighborhood Spider-Man in the middle of an actual neighborhood. I haven't seen anyone like Kingpin or even that bubble-head Mysterio in a place like this.<p>

As he waited in the branches of a tree, he thought he heard a sonic boom in the distance. Cocking his head up, he tried to find the source of the sound. "Strange, I know the Triskelion has jets, but that didn't sound like it was coming from there."

Suddenly, he felt something go off in his head, demanding he hold on tight. As soon as he felt it, there was a flash of teal and white, followed by a blast of wind that nearly knocked him off his perch. As soon as he steadied himself, the teal blur was back, stopping just off of the street, looking at the warehouse where the haunted house was. Spider-Man studied the figure: he was very lean but looked very athletic, a very similar frame to his own. He was dressed in a teal body suit, dominated only by a silver lightning bolt that decorated his front. His hair matched the lightning bolt, and looked combed by gale-force winds.

Something about this creep gave Spider-Man the willies, but he couldn't ping what. This was like no spandex-loving sap he'd ever encountered before. Apparently speed was this guy's game as much as webbing saps was his own. He wondered what he was doing here in this place, eyeing a haunted house tourist trap of all places. Stringing together a line of web, he lowered himself upside-down to see if he could get anything from this guy. He looked cocky enough to self-narrate.

The figure seemed to mutter to himself, "So, this is where you decided to get away from me from, huh? Well, you're not getting away from me that easily, you glorified geek. As much as I hate playing the waiting game, seeing you bristle at everything I say will make it so worth it. And you won't be able to do anything about because I'm just too fast for you." The figure cackled.

Spider-Man couldn't help himself. "Wow, that didn't sound like a chicken laying an egg at all."

The figure spun around, seeing the web-slinger hanging upside-down from the trees. His blue eyes bulged at the sight of the red-and-blue figure hanging from the trees. Before he could say anything, however, Spider-Man added, "Hey, don't mind me, just hanging around."

The figure narrowed his eyes. "And who the hell are you?"

"Me? Oh, just you're friendly neighborhood Spider-Man. Nice costume, dude. Tell me, does it ride up the crotch at all? I know mine does. So, what do they call you? Green Lightning? Silverbolt? Oh, I know! How about Thunderbutt? I like that one."

The figure was livid. "Try 'Quicksilver,' and I'm the fastest guy alive."

"Fastest guy, huh? What does that mean, there's a chick that beats you? Is her name Thunderbutt or something much more sophisticated like Lady Legerity, or something like that, hmm?"

Quicksilver tried his hardest not to pop an artery as he answered. "So, you think you're a funny guy, huh? Well, let me tell you this, nerdboy. Just stay out of my way and I won't be slapping you flat like the little fly you are, got it?" Not giving Spider-Man the chance to answer, he took off down the road again.

Spider-Man looked on after him, calling out. "Do I look like a fly to you?! I'm a spider!" He then continued to quip. "Come on, I made this costume. See this? These are hand-stitched! How could this not look like a spider?"

As he looked on down the road, he wondered just who this guy was targeting. It sounded way too flippant to be an assassination attempt or a mugging. It actually sounded personal. Just what kind of guy would "Captain Quick" here have a grudge match with? He knew he wasn't one to talk, but this speedster was a kid. Would this guy he's after be more or less the same?

He decided that hanging around was probably the best idea. If this Quicksilver guy was going to do some real damage against someone, then someone needed to be here to make sure that did not happen. Might as well be him.

Spider-Man sighed. So much for a relaxing night.

* * *

><p><em>Bayville High School – 7:18 PM<em>

Tabitha and Kitty were sitting down on the bleachers as the dance continued to progress rather lethargically. Tabitha sighed to herself. "Ok, you know what? This dance is boring. Let's hightail it over to that haunted house Jason told us about this week."

Kitty threw her finished drink into the nearby trash receptacle. "Like lets! If I have to spend another minute in Boredwalk, I'll—"

Suddenly, the lights and music died completely, completely stilling Kitty's tongue, but stimulating the surprise of everyone else in the gymnasium. Tabitha's and Kitty's eyes opened wide in surprised despite the pitch-black darkness. "What like happened?" Kitty said.

"Might be a blown circuit," Tabitha replied. "Hard to believe they could do that considering how dull things were."

"Keep calm, everyone!" said the voice of Ms. Darkhölme from somewhere else in the room. "Our maintenance staff is investigating the issue and will be addressing it promptly. In the meantime, remain in the gymnasium until we at least get the lights working."

As the ensemble of students calmed down and began to talk among themselves, Kitty whispered, "Can you believe her?"

"She has some serious balls for keeping up her little principal act after pretty much telling us who she was. If she knew what was good of her, she'd get the heck out of Bayville. We all our wise to her know…"

"Yeah, but the Professor said that if we did anything stupid, it could ruin everything for all of us. Now that would be a bummer if the entire school started hating us because we got rid of Queen Bitchy von Broad."

Tabitha sighed. "I've never been one to keep my head down. Damn, sometimes I just want to rock this joint the way only _I_ can!"

Kitty stifled a laugh, and then wondered aloud. "I wonder how long it's going to take them to get the lights back on. I mean, I know I'm good at what I do, but I want to get out of here and be able to see my way to the door.

* * *

><p>Outside in the hall, a maintenance associate was inspecting a fuse box some distance from the gymnasium doors. Illuminating the network of switches with a flashlight, he looked perplexed to see that the fuse box seemed perfectly normal.<p>

"_Strange, all the switches are in the places they should be. If it's not a tripped fuse…"_

Suddenly, the lights flickered down an adjacent hall, attracting the man's attention. _"The hell?"_ Shining his flashlight down the hall, he tried to see what might have caused it. One of the ceiling lights flickered like it was dying. He grimaced at the implications. "Oh, the boss ain't going to be happy if it's a short circuit in the wiring."

Following the blinking lights as if they told where the problem was, he made his way gingerly down the dark hallways, illuminated only by the occasional blinking light bulb. After turning down one dark hallway, he heard something that sounded like a door shutting. Perking up, he shown his flashlight down the hallway. "Is someone there?"

The silence was his answer. Not convince, the maintenance man journeyed down the hallway. Had he stayed just a little longer, he might have noticed an unusual shadow on the wall as the lights flickered again, slowly followed him down the hall.

* * *

><p>"Get it off! GET IT OFF!"<p>

Piotr pulled Jason out of the grip of a massive spider-web, but as soon as he did, they all felt little fuzzy things with legs fall right on top of them. Jason and Piotr's arms dashed across their respective bodies, trying to get the repulsive things off. After a few hectic seconds, they succeeded. Panting as the fresh adrenalin bath soaked their minds and muscles, they took a moment to breathe.

"Geez, I hate spider webs!" Jason exclaimed all too loudly. "This whole summer, I somehow kept walking into one back at home when I went out for a walk. It was not pretty."

Piotr picked the last piece of webbing from his stiff black hair. "In Russia, we have insects and spiders, but not as much as here in America."

Jason allowed himself to relax. "Probably because it gets colder faster there than it does here. There's no way any bigger population could stand it. America is the same way in places…and I'm truly—uh oh."

Piotr looked at Jason. "What is it?"

"Conspicuous holes in the wall, one o'clock." Jason pointed out a series of small decent-sized holes in the woodwork of an adjacent wall. "You couldn't get any more obvious than that."

"What are you talking about?" Piotr asked.

Jason grinned. "Peter, this is a haunted house. Something like that is just proclaiming something is going to reach out and grab you." Looking back at the hole, he continued. "Basically, the best thing to do is just stay away from the—AHH!" Jason screamed as something shot out of the bottom-most hole and opened up.

Piotr, startled like Jason's scream, looked past Jason to see what frightened his friend, and his face melted into bewilderment. "A…umbrella?"

Jason, eyes bulging, looked again and saw that it was in face a small black umbrella, which in due process retracted back into the hole like it was its home. Feeling very red in the face, Jason sighed, "Fuck."

Piotr tried not to smile at Jason's embarrassment, but he wasn't entirely successful. Thankfully it was dark.

Suddenly, out of nowhere, they all heard the distinct sound of chains rattling from somewhere behind them. Freezing at once, both listened again as the rattling started to gain volume. Jason dared to looked back, and yelped. Piotr looked himself, and his own yelp caught in his throat. Standing behind them down the hall was a burning skeletal figure, wrapped in a corona of poison green flames. In one hand it carried the chain they both heard, and in the other, a machete. Its glowing eye sockets bore down upon them with pure hatred. _**"Who dares tread upon my domain?! Two souls fresh for offering?!"**_

Jason and Piotr ran for their lives.

"_**Come back here! You shall be the first to offer to the devil when the moon reaches its zenith!"**_

Needless to say, this was one command the two adventures were obliged to disobey. Jason lead the way in a frenzy, fumbling his way through the webbing and anything else in the way. "This way, hurry!" Jason called.

"How do you know?!" Piotr exclaimed at the same volume.

"Better than the _other_ way!" Jason replied. Turning a corner, they found themselves in a dead end. Jason skidded to a halt with Piotr close behind. Jason looked wide-eyed up the wall in front of them. "What?" he cried out.

"You led us to a dead end!" Piotr exclaimed.

"There was no other way!"

"_**That's right, sweet meat. Wait right where you are. I promise I'll make it quick."**_

Jason spun around, just in time to see a sick-green light slowly grow around the corner. "There's no way to go!"

Piotr looked around, and suddenly spotted a rather unremarkable door just to his side. He didn't stop to wonder why he never noticed it before. "Jason, here's a door!"

Jason looked and saw it as well. Rushing to Piotr's side, Piotr pulled the door open and ushered Jason inside. Jason ran inside, followed quickly by Piotr who slammed the door shut. It quickly feel silent outside, and there was nothing but pitch darkness where they were. Panting, they stood there in the darkness.

Jason swallowed a few times before speaking. "Man, that was something else."

Piotr looked towards where Jason's voice emitted from. "You still say this is fun?"

Jason laughed. "Yeah? Granted my heart is still beating harder than…well…a rock band drummer—that was smooth—but I haven't feel so good for a while. I just know I'm going to be wiped after I sit down long enough after this is all over."

Piotr sighed. "I do not think I will ever understand you, Jason."

Even in the darkness, Piotr could hear the smile in Jason's response. "Yeah? Well, as long as you're still willing to come along for the ride, I'm good. Next time, you can choose the getaway. Deal?"

Piotr allowed himself to smile. "Deal."

Both continued to pant in the darkness, which had not changed a single bit since they arrived. That confused Piotr. Before, you didn't have much time to catch your breath. Here, apparently you had all the time in the world. That began to work on Piotr's nerves. He tried to see through the wall of darkness, but failed. Reaching out, he called for Jason. "Jason, do you see anything?" Finally, Piotr's fingers found something that felt like fabric.

At once, Jason yelped. "Something touched me!"

Piotr turned apologetic. "That was me, I am sorry."

Piotr then felt hands feel his own. "Geez, Piotr, you scared me to death for a minute." Jason sighed. "I can feel my heart in my head."

"Sorry. Can you see anything?"

"Nope, just a lot of black. I heard that normal for this time of night."

"I can't see how to get out of here."

"Well, I'm sure as hell not going out the way we came. You want to? Be my guest. I'll stay here."

"Grab onto my jacket; I'll try to find a way out of here."

"If you say so."

Piotr began to feel the wall nearby, snaking his free hand up and down the wall in searching for a door that would take them out of this room.

"You know, it's really odd for an exhibit like this to have a completely dark room as part of the attraction. I wonder if we went into a storage room or something, a place we weren't supposed to go."

"Are you certain? It was the only way out."

"Yeah, there's that too. It doesn't make sense. Why would they—"

Out of nowhere, they were assaulted by flashing lights, loud noises, but most important of all, a figure of a withered woman, her mouth permanently frozen in a hellish scream, which pierced through the air and the two's ears. Piotr and Jason screamed at the sight of it, frozen in spot at the abomination. All the lights went down except some blood red ones, accompanied by a harsh breathing sound.

"Get out! Get out! Get out!" Jason kept screaming.

The lights revealed a second door out of the room. Grabbing Jason, Piotr took off for the door in a hurry, throwing it open and pouring through it. Jason and Piotr ran stumbling down a dark hallway flickered by lightning. Suddenly, they shot out into the harsh fluorescent lighting of the warehouse where the haunted house sat. Dozens of people were staring at them with grins etching on their faces as they saw the fright that carved Piotr's and Jason's faces.

Jason gasped as he tried to talk. "Good lord…that was crazy…"

Piotr looked at Jason. "Great? That was terrifying!"

Jason grinned manically. "I know! Wasn't it great?!"

Piotr's face gave way to confusion. "Jason…you are not well."

"Oh, I've never felt this alive in weeks. Just give it a minute for the happy feelings to kick in."

While they stood there, an attendant met up with them, carrying what appeared to be a unifold picture album. "So, how was it?"

Jason's grinned continued to shine across his face. "Can we go again?"

Piotr looked at Jason. "No!"

The attendant laughed. "Well, I've got something for you. Towards the end, there was a room set up to catch photographs when people saw our little trick in that room." The attendant had to bite her lip to keep from laughing. "Yours was quite photogenic."

Jason looked curious as he took the album out of the attendant's hand and opened it. At once, he doubled over in laughter. "Oh my god, did I really look like _that_?!" Jason guffawed.

Piotr took the album out of Jason's hands and looked at the picture. His face turned bright red as he studied the image. He himself was turned slightly towards Jason, his eyes bulging out of his head, his mouth opened wide in a frozen scream. His right arm was brought in front of him defensively. For the most part, Piotr looked rather reasonably scared. Jason however was more dynamic. His arms wrapped around Piotr's left arm like a python as his face depicted the same terror that Piotr's did. Jason's left leg was slightly raised as if he was ready to run. Piotr couldn't look away at how Jason was practically hugging his arm like a teddy bear. How had he not noticed that?

Jason, partially recovered, looked at the picture in Piotr's hands. "Wow man, that looks so crazy." Jason had to fight a fit of the giggles to continue. "Hey…P-Peter. I'm sorry if that was too awk-awkwa—" Jason lost the fight and had to sit down and allow giggles to take over. "S-sorry!" Jason giggled some more.

Piotr grew distracted at Jason's giggles, finding it hard not to smile himself. "Are you all right?"

"Y-yeah, just give me a min—" Jason buried his face into his hands and giggled more.

Even the attendant was smile. "Well, when you're ready, we can sell you your own copies of this. We keep a copy ourselves to put on the website if you want to view it there as well. Thanks for stopping by!"

Piotr had to answer for Jason, who was still giggling. "Thank you." As the attendant left, Piotr sat down next to Jason, who started deep breathing.

"Ok, ok…I'm okay…" A few more giggles emitted as he did. "J-just got to air it all out." A few more rounds of deep breathing and he was able to talk normally again. "Oh, that was great…although now I'm really thirsty. I'm going to pay for a copy of the picture and then we'll grab something to drink. That all right with you?"

Piotr looked back at Jason. "You really want this?"

Jason snorted. "Of course! This crap is way too funny! Now come on, let's get out of here before I get another giggle fit."

Jason left for the front counter while Piotr looked on, bewildered. Sometimes, he just didn't understand Americans at all.

* * *

><p>Scott felt his way down the hall in the darkness, broken only by the occasional flickering light. One minute, he was taking a break from wallflower status to use the facilities, and now he was stumbling through the halls, trying to find his way back to the gymnasium. Living in darkness wasn't new to him, however; before the Professor had found him with his foster parents, he had taped his eyes shut with duct tape to prevent his optic blasts from escaping his eyes. Despite being at the Institute for as long as he has, he still couldn't control them without the aid of ruby quartz glasses or his patented visor of the same material. It helped immensely because it enabled him to see, given that his entire world was in shades of red.<p>

Despite being able to see—however monochromatically—seeing only one color was still rather limiting. He was seeing the world like this for so long that even his dreams have taken a monochromatic filter to them, even the ones of the only woman he'd ever thought he'd love. Those dreams disheartened him greatly. He knew Jean was taken by Duncan, a fact that burned him like acid, yet he stood on the sidelines because he respected Jean far too much to press anything. But even if he was able to win her over to his side, what then? He still couldn't look at here without blowing her head off. There was no way that he could see Jean beyond seeing her in shades of red. He could never enjoy Jean fully for who she was because of his…gift. Scott sighed. This was one of the times that his gift played the part of a curse.

The buzzing of the lights began to work on his nerves as it drew him back out of his own thoughts. Looking around, he realized that he must have been moping for quite some time. Kicking himself mentally, he looked around for the fastest way to get to the gymnasium. He barely took a step down his predetermined path when something rattled down a nearby hall. Scott's gaze shot down the direction where it came from. "Is someone there?" he called out.

No answer. Scott shook his head; his mind was just playing games in the darkness. He turned back to leave, when suddenly a new sound: a can rolling.

"Who's there?" Scott said louder. Silence reigned once again. Growing annoyed, he started venturing down the hallway where he heard the noise. "Hey, I know you're here! Come out and stop playing around!"

At once, the flickering lights died noisily, leaving Scott in complete darkness. _"Perfect,"_ Scott thought ruefully. "Don't think that the lights going out is going to help you!"

He stood still in the middle of the darkness, waiting for the lights to come back on. _"Probably just some stupid people trying to play a prank or something worse," _Scott thought.

Suddenly, he heard something like footsteps from behind him a ways. Turning around, the lights came back flickering weakly, illuminating the hallway enough to reveal what was creeping around. However, besides Scott, no one was there. Scott stared transfixed at the spot where he thought he heard the noise, daring not to move. He was sure someone was there, he knew it. As his eyes slowly moved around, he noticed subtle movement from a nearby door. Scowling, he strode for the door. "All right, enough is enough." He pushed the door open, and called in. "Come on out! I know you're in—" Scott cut himself off as his eyes finally caught up with his mouth.

There was no one in this room.

Scott tried the light switch in vain, but the room was still dark. Everything pointed to that someone walked into this room while the hall was completely dark, but as is plainly evident, no one was here. Scott's mind raced to come to a few reason why this would be the case, and one topped them all. Kurt was a teleporter, a prankster and had excellent night vision. Likely enough, he could walk through these halls and see everything just find despite the absence of light. Scowling again, Scott closed his eyes and concentrated a call. _"Jean?"_

The response was quick. _"Scott? Where are you? We're about to leave because the lights still haven't come back on yet."_

"_Is Kurt with you?"_

A pause. _"Yes, why?"_

"_Has he been with you for at least the last few minutes?"_

Another pause. _"For the last five minutes at least. What's wrong?"_

Scott was about to respond when a shadow cast itself on his back from the flickering light. Despite the fact his back was turned, he felt the umbra seemingly press down on him. To top it all off, there was a nasty breathing sound.

"_Scott, you're starting to scare me…"_ came Jean's telepathic voice.

Slowly turning around, Scott locked eyes on the caster of the shadow. As soon as he did, the thing screamed at him. Scott felt back on his back in fright, and the thing crawled in and raised its claws. Scott pulled off his glasses and gave the creature one look.

* * *

><p>Jean was standing next to the exit with Tabitha, Kitty and Kurt when Scott's thoughts reached her head. The dance was pretty much over and they were all preparing to leave, but no one could find Scott or Bobby. Before any of them had a chance to go look for either of them, Scott's came to Jean's mind in a manner of speaking and was asking weird question. Suddenly, Scott's questions went dark. Jean prodded for an answer. <em>"Scott, you're starting to scare me…"<em>

A few seconds afterwards, there was the sound of a muffled explosion from deeper within the school. Jean, the others and the rest of the student body heard it, and there were murmurs of fearful curiosity in the crowd.

Kurt voiced his thoughts. "What was that?"

Tabitha shrugged. "Wasn't me."

Kitty looked at Jean. "What could have caused that sound?"

Jean, looking apprehensive, replied. "I don't know." Then mentally, she called Scott again. _"Scott? We heard an explosion. Did you hear—" _Jean's eyes shot open. _"Scott?"_

Kurt noticed. "What's the matter?"

"Scott's not answering my telepathy. He was talking to me earlier on mind, but now he's not responding."

The other three looked at each other. "Can you find him?" Kitty said.

Jean closed her eyes and searched the school with her mind. To her alarm, she couldn't find him. As a matter of fact, half the school seemed trapped in a telepathic dead zone. "I can't find him!"

Murmurs of concern shared themselves among the three with Jean. "Maybe we should look for him?" Kitty asked.

"Um, duh, we should," Kurt replied. "Should we all go?"

Jean willed herself to stay calm. "I think if just us three go, we should be fine. Tabitha, see if you can find Bobby and meet us outside. If we need you, I'll call for you."

Tabitha crossed her arms. "Oh, come on, Jean. Just because I'm not in your little club yet, that doesn't mean you can just tell me what to do."

Jean frowned. "Tabs, there's no time for this. Explosions inside a school: what does that remind you of? We need someone to stay on the outside if things go bad."

That stopped Tabitha's complaining. "…do you think it might?"

Jean looked towards where they heard the explosion, all the while hearing Ms. Darkhölme urging everyone to remain calm. "I don't know, but that's why we need to be ready. We three should be able to handle things, but in case something does go wrong, we need you to get out of here and get help."

Tabitha's eyes showed understanding for the gravity of the situation. "Ok, I get you. But I haven't seen Bobby since we came in here."

Kitty shrugged. "Neither has any of us."

Jean looked around. "Well, he has to be around here somewhere. Maybe outside?"

Tabitha shrugged. "Good a place as an—hey!" Tabitha had tried the door, but the door wouldn't budge.

"What's wrong? Kurt asked.

"The door's stuck!" Tabitha exclaimed.

Kitty tested the door herself, but failed. "I can't even get the latch to move. It's jammed."

Jean tried herself and failed, a fact that worried her. "Either this thing suddenly broke, or it was sabotaged." _"Which suggests things are going to hit the fan in a minute."_

"What do we do now?" Kitty whispered.

"Kitty, phase yourself through the doors and wait for us," Jean replied the same way. "Tabitha, Kurt and I will look for Scott."

Tabitha saluted. "Yes, sir, ma'am!"

Jean ignored the joke. "Come on, there should be a door nearby that takes us to the rest of the school."

As the three left, Kitty looked after them apprehensively. What was going on here?

* * *

><p>"What are these?" Piotr asked, looking at the nomenclature on a menu.<p>

"I'm going to guess they're trying to be clever and failing to do so," Jason answered. I really doubt this ice cream parlor is really serving _real_ eyes of newt. I have a hunch those are gumballs in the shape of human eyes on top of an ice cream cone. And this "worms in mud?" Gummy worms in chocolate or rocky-road ice cream. I've seen silly crap like this before."

Both were sitting outside an outdoor ice cream parlor, looking over the menus before going up to the window to order. After escaping the haunted house, Jason took Piotr to relax at a nearby ice cream parlor to reenergize after getting their well-earned scares. While they were looking to choose, they got distracted by the abnormal names for the more intricate treats.

"Even if the names are cornier than Iowa, I can't knack the graphical design. The guy who did this knew his shit."

Piotr looked at the actual design of the menu. "It is good art. I-I never tried to draw this way."

Jason smiled. "Well, it is rather different than drawing still-life or portraits. Eh, maybe once you give it a spin yourself, you'd be a regular Picasso at it." Jason looked at the window. "Ready to order?"

After several minutes, Jason and Piotr were happily enjoying a couple of good old-fashioned root beer floats back at their table. The fizzy volcano of root bear and ice cream proved to be just what the doctor ordered for a night of frights. Jason was smiling and laughing, and so was Piotr.

Finally, Jason sighed. "I'm glad we got to do this. After the last two months, I could a…what would be a good way to put it…sanity check?" Sighing in mild frustration, he continued. "I had something and I forgot it. Go figure."

Piotr merely answered. "You have been very busy since you come here."

"Eh, it's more than that. Sure, there's school, the musical, and god forbid the Danger Room sessions; but I'm mainly talking about the other stuff that has happened. A break-in by Tolanski in my first week? Being nearly mauled by Sabretooth? The hurricane? Blob? Kurt getting stuck in a pocket dimension? Being bullied by Pietro? And even—" Jason cut himself off momentarily. "—even the affair with Mystique."

Piotr looked at Jason. Only a couple weeks prior, Jason was nearly killed in a flash flood, but not before being slapped around by Mystique both mentally and physically. All of the injuries Jason had received that day had long since faded, yet the truth that all of them learned that day was something they would never forget. Despite that, there was little talk about it, and no one had approached Jason about it afterwards, not even Piotr. The fact that he brought it up himself concerned Piotr. "Are you all right?"

"Yeah…" Jason said. "It's just that fight left me thinking a lot."

"About what?"

"My own life."

Piotr didn't answer, but his eyes declared that he would like to hear more.

Jason looked at Piotr. "Can I tell you something, Peter?"

Piotr nodded. "Of course."

"I'd rather you not tell anybody about this."

Piotr blinked, but his curiosity bloomed so quickly that he forgot to be confused about such a request. "All right."

Jason sighed. "When I saw that wave bearing down on me, my life flashed before my eyes, and from that little glimpse, I realized that there were very few instances where I just sat down and enjoyed life like this. Hanging out and having fun with friends or the people I care about…" Jason shook his head. "…never realized what I was missing."

Piotr's eyes softened at that. "You had friends at home?"

Jason leaned back. "A few, but nothing to write home about. They were mainly the people I chose to hang out with since my freshman year. Couple of guys from class, but there was one girl. Her name was Samantha, but we took to calling her Sam." Jason smiled slightly. "You would've liked her: she was smart, had a good sense of humor, and was not afraid of saying things as they were. She gave me a good talking to a couple of times when I was in the dumps. She was quite a girl."

Piotr looked away briefly as he listened to Jason talk about this "Samantha." He never expected that Jason might have had someone special waiting from him back at home. All he had were his family—wherever they were—but he never found himself someone else to love beyond them. It appeared Jason had, and for that he was just a little bit jealous…or so it seemed. Looking back at Jason, he asked slowly, "Did you…care for her?"

One of Jason's thick eyebrows rose slightly. "Care for her?"

Piotr closed his eyes as he tried to reword the question. "Did you…love her?"

Now both eyebrows shot up on Jason's face. Quickly looking away, he cleared his throat. "Well…"

Piotr looked down slightly. "You did then."

Jason didn't see Piotr's lowered head. "Well…not exactly."

Piotr looked back up. "What?"

Jason looked back, completely oblivious to what Piotr had been thinking. "It's a little complicated, but I'll try to explain." Jason pivoted his head back and forth as he considered his words. "During my sophomore year, I, like any guy my age, wondered if I would find love or something of the sort at school. But I knew next to nothing about the other girls at school…except for Samantha. For several months, I wondered if I should ask her out for something. Homecoming passed by and I didn't. Prom passed by and I didn't. Heck, half way through the second semester, I was no closer to asking her than when I first considered it. As the second semester began to wane, I began to think that it wouldn't hurt to ask for at least one date and see what happened."

Piotr took the time to breathe before asking. "What happened?"

"It never happened." Jason said plainly.

That shocked Piotr. "What stopped you?"

"My sense of timing. I had decided to ask her once I got done with my science project for the regional science expo in Enid."

Piotr's brow sank in confusion. "I do not understand."

A muscle in Jason's jaw jumped as he sat really still. "Peter, my father and I went to that expo, and we drove back the same night…a dark and stormy night."

Piotr blanched. "You mean…"

Jason shut his eyes tightly. "Yeah…"

Piotr knew he needed to act fast before Jason sunk into those horrible memories. "But could you have asked her after?"

Jason opened up his eyes. "Well, I could have, but I didn't." Sipping his root beer float, he continued. "I didn't get out of the hospital until a week after—and wasn't allowed to go back to school for another week. Things were really quiet at the school when I returned. The friends I had weren't sure how to even talk to me, except Samantha. Even then, the only words I remember were 'I'm glad that you're okay.'"

That confused Piotr. "It sound like she would have been…good for you. Why did you not ask?"

"As it turns out, she was moving from the area with her family as soon as the semester was over. They moved to Denver. I never heard from her again. You ever heard Katy Perry's 'The One That Got Away?' It's a newer song from last year, so if you haven't hear it, it's okay. While this wasn't nearly as dramatic as that, it did leave me wondering for a time if she was the one that got away."

"For a time?"

Jason shook his head. "About half-way through the summer, I basically moved on. This was actually the first time I wondered about her since that summer. Only because I nearly died did it remind me of her and…what could have been." Jason smiled. "But I'm okay with it now. I know when I missed my chance. I guess that makes me an eligible bachelor."

Piotr sat back a bit. He didn't expect Jason to be so relaxed about missing out on love, but who was he to criticize?

Jason took another sip from his beverage. "What about you, Peter?"

Piotr snapped out of his thoughts. "I am sorry?"

"Have you ever at some point loved someone beyond…well…" Jason cut himself off tactfully; he knew that Piotr's family was a sensitive subject.

Piotr suddenly looked sad. In Russia, he was always on the farm helping his father with the work. In fact, it was there he discovered his mutation when he stood between his sister and an ugly demise by combine. His metal body destroyed the combine, but no one seemed to care about that fact in that tight-knit collective. He was more than a man; he was now a real asset for the collective and the state. No transformation could save his little sister from death, however; he was more than willing to trade his newfound abilities if it would save his sister. He ended up bargaining all right…with the devil.

"Peter?"

Again, Jason's voice brought him back out of his dark thoughts. "Uh—sorry."

Jason looked apologetic. "I guess it was rather forward of a question."

"_N-nyet_!" Piotr said suddenly. "I can answer."

Jason didn't change his expression. "You don't have to."

"But I want to. You be honest to me; I be honest to you."

Jason regarded Piotr for a few seconds before he set back. "Ok."

Piotr nodded. "I-I never love anyone beyond my family. Under—" Piotr breathed determinedly before continuing. "—when I was working for—" Piotr struggled again to continue.

Jason interrupted. "It's okay, Peter. I think I got the picture. Basically, you've never found someone special because you were so wrapped up in other…business…that you never could look. And once you were relieved of that aforementioned business, you didn't feel like looking at all. Am I far off?"

Piotr listened to every word of Jason's rather ambiguous reiteration. The only reason Jason was being demure with his words was because he was trying to avoid bringing up sensitive topics. That was certainly one thing about Jason he liked: how much he cared for his friends. He didn't show it a lot, but he really did care about his friends and was fiercely loyal to them. If one was willing to look past his scarred face and his temper, they would find either his or her staunchest ally, or wrathful enemy. Piotr was thankful he at least was an ally, a friend…and…

Jason's brow furrowed. "Peter?"

Piotr snapped out of his thoughts. Sighing, he replied. "I am sorry…"

Jason smiled a bit. "You've been zonking out a lot since we got here. Something else on your mind?"

Piotr thought about revealing what he was thinking about, but then decided against it. "No, I am just a little tired from everything."

Jason smiled. "Yeah, you can say that again. Between school, practice, training here and with Dr. Strange, you'd think we don't have time for anything else, let alone having to deal with the other crap the Brotherhood hurls at us. Which is why I'm pretty glad that I was able to convince you to get away from the Institute and just relax for a night." Jason looked thoughtful. "That reminds me, how are you feeling now?"

Piotr looked up, thrown slightly by the change of subject. His mind raced to catch up. "I am better…but I do not think I can talk about it."

Jason made a knowing look. "I believe otherwise. I think you _can_ talk about it. The problem is that you've kept it in so long that you've never known the relief that depending on a friend. The only outlet you've ever considered is the brawls you and Logan keep having." Jason's brow fell over his eyes. "And we both know that turned out to be not a good enough outlet."

Piotr's own brow lowered in agitation at that, but it softened quickly…because he knew Jason was right. "Yes."

Jason's brow lifted up, but he remained silent.

"It…I miss them, Jason." Piotr looked sad. "I really miss my family."

The corners of Jason's brow fell over his eyes again as he took pity on his friend.

Piotr continued. "I think I will forever be responsible for what happened to my family. I decided to serve under Magneto so Illyana may live happily, and when I escaped, my family was sent away so that they may live safely." Piotr closed his eyes. "I would give anything so that my family can live back on the farm like before.

Jason half-smiled. "Well, I hope not. If that happened, I never would have met you!"

Piotr looked up, momentarily stunned at such an unabashed statement.

Jason relaxed some. "But I know how you feel. Sometimes I wish that I never became a mutant. If that happened, Magneto would have never been interested in me, and that I never would have had to come to live at the Institute to get away from him. If all that never happened, I would be living happily back in Red Rock with my own family, helping my wheelchair-bound father where I could." Jason shook his head briefly. "But nothing I can do will ever change what has happened. It's plain and simple: I'm a mutant and I need to be here. My father wouldn't have it any other way." Looking at Piotr, he continued. "So, Peter, what do you think?"

Piotr blinked. "I am not understanding."

"Do you think that instead of wishing for things to be like they were, you'd be doing more by moving forward and try to furnish a new future with your family?"

That froze Piotr. Jason continued. "You're free from Magneto; your family is safe. That's all you need to forge the makings of a bright and shining future for your family. It's like I said back at the hospital: the only person among us who is blaming you for your sins is yourself. You did what you had to do to save your family. Now that you have, you can now focus on building a future."

Piotr sat stunned for a few seconds before he replied, "but I cannot ever see my family in case Magneto finds them through me. The Professor said so."

Jason folded his hands in front of him. "Well, then you know your first step towards that future then. You need to talk to the Professor. I can't help you there anymore. As for Magneto, you don't have to face him alone. He messes with you, he messes with all of us."

Piotr looked touched. "You would do that?"

"In a heartbeat. It helps that I have some personal beef with Magneto myself."

Piotr smiled briefly, but it quickly faded as he thought about what Jason said. "So…is it really just that easy?"

"I didn't say it would be easy…but it is the best thing we could ever do." Jason smiled a bit. "That's what my father would say, at least. Heh, helps me sleep at night anyway."

Piotr looked concerned. "You are not sleeping well?"

"Eh, some nights are fine, but I have been pretty restless as of late. Some nights I just lie in bed as my head is filled to the brim with a million thoughts. It would take a librarian to categorize them."

"Anything you want to talk about?"

Jason looked away. "Well, one of them walked in on us back at the haunted house."

Piotr understood. "Jean-Paul."

"Yeah. I'm still kicking myself over it because all he really wanted is to get to know me better. What do I do? I call him a—" Jason cut himself off. "—well, you know. He didn't bring that up at all when you talked to him, did he?"

Piotr recalled back to earlier when he spoke briefly to Jean-Paul before he and Jason ventured into the haunted house. "No, he did not say anything…but he had friend, and he knew someone call Jean-Paul—" Piotr cut himself off, after witnessing Jason wince at that.

"I was afraid he would tell someone else about it." Jason shook his head. "Of course, I deserve it."

Piotr looked compassionately at Jason. "You did not mean it."

Jason was not reassured. "Doesn't matter. I still said them, and angrily as well. It's my fault because I let my temper get the better of me…as usual. It's just like the Professor said to me just before the hurricane: fire is just like rage; it will burn to ashes everything around us that we hold dear until there is nothing left if left unchecked. Back in the cave, I let my rage utterly destroy my friendship with Jean-Paul. There's nothing left but ashes."

"Then the answer is simple, no?"

Jason looked up. "What?"

"Instead of fixing friendship, perhaps you can build new one."

Jason stared transfixed for several seconds at the simplicity of Piotr's answer. Suddenly, Jason allowed himself to smile. "_Touché_, Peter. Way to turn my own words around and bitch slap me with them." Jason's smile fell. "Of course, it sounds like he's found a protective friend to bar me from talking to him."

Piotr's eyes turned distant as his mind tried to solve this conundrum, but then lit up as he got an idea. "Perhaps you can call him?"

Jason looked up at Piotr, one of his heavy eyebrows raised in befuddlement. "Sounds like a decent idea, but isn't that a little impersonal?"

"I talk to Jean-Paul a lot on the phone; he give me his number so I can call him when I want to talk to him. I can give you it if you want."

Jason stared at Piotr for quite a while, and then smiled. "Peter, what would I do without you?"

"Ugh, get a life, you dweebs!"

Jason's face instantly changed from grateful to aggravated. Shooting his eyes to the source of the voice, he shot a poisonous glace to a lanky teen, dressed in a teal bodysuit decorated with a silver lightning bolt that complimented his windblown silver hair. "Who asked you, Pietro?" Jason growled, his grip tightening around his root beer float.

Pietro scoffed. "Puh-leeze! You think I would ask to do anything? Takes too long."

"In that case, I'll make it short: BUZZ OFF!" Jason hurled the contents of his cup right into Pietro's face.

Pietro found himself drenched in fizzy sticky root beer, spluttering in complete surprise at the blindsided attack by Jason. Pietro wiped the saccharine soda from his face, revealing a glare of loathing. "You're going to pay for that, X-Man!"

Before Jason could react, Pietro tackled into Jason at high speeds, carrying the latter into the streets, tumbling onto the pavement as a teal and silver blue raced by him. Horrified, Piotr leaped over the fence that stood between him and Jason. Reaching him, he picked him up and darted out of the street. Safely on a corner now, Piotr tried to waken the stunned Jason. "Jason? Can you hear me?"

A blast of wind suddenly tore at the two, but it died as fast as it rose, leaving a cocky looking Pietro sneering at them. "Well, so much for that. One hit and he's down. Pathetic!"

Piotr glared at Pietro. "You nearly killed him, Maximoff!"

Pietro yawned. "So?"

Piotr's eyes narrowed even further as his flesh turned into metal. "Leave now or else I send you back to Magneto using my foot!"

"Ooh! Sounds like a challenge!" Pietro mocked. "Come on, Colossal Failure, you're _way_ out of your league with me, and so is that pathetic meat sack you're fondling. See, to beat me, you need to be fast, and you ain't ever going to beat me!" Pietro laughed and dashed away, blasting both Piotr and Jason with harsh gales.

Jason shook his head, coming to. "That was a deliberate attempt on my life!"

Piotr had to calm himself down before he spoke, allowing his flesh to return to normal. "Pietro has always been cruel, a trait he share with father."

Jason allowed Piotr to help him out. "Well, his father may be a force to be reckoned with, but Pietro is just a punk." Looking back to Piotr, Jason said. "You game to kick his ass?"

Piotr nodded. "Yes."

"Then let's go back and get our backpack and suit up. Good thing I decided to bring our uniforms along with us."

Piotr's eyes widened. "You brought our uniforms?"

Jason nodded. "After Mystique, I've been making it a habit to bring my gear with me wherever I go. I'm not going to let myself get caught like that again. Now, let's go!"

* * *

><p>Jean, Tabitha and Kurt looked up and down the darkened hallways, lit only by flickering lights. Beyond the buzzing the lights made, the place was as quiet as a tomb. It was maddening. Kurt even said as much. "<em>Mein Gott<em>, I never knew how creepy this place could be at night."

"It's the silence," Jean explained, trying herself to remain calm. "We're so used to the bustle of the school during the day that seeing it so quiet is perfectly unnerving."

"It's not just that, I hear…" Tabitha whispered. "I heard that something roams the halls every night after the sun sets."

Jean sighed. "Tabitha, if this is about the ghost—"

Kurt cut her off. "Ghost?"

"A poltergeist, as a matter of fact." Tabitha continued with relish. "They say that a spirit of a bullied kid that hung herself roams these halls after nightfall: Batty Betty."

"They also say that getting wet gives you a cold, but we all know that's not true," Jean said, annoyed.

Kurt however was transfixed. "A poltergeist? In these halls?"

"You betcha, Big Blue…and she's not the nice kind either. I hear she opens and shuts the lockers, slams them is more like it. Sometimes she breaks the windows."

Jean had enough. "Tabitha, that's nothing but a bunch of stories of an urban legend people love to spread around. Batty Betty isn't real!"

Tabitha only shrugged. "Fine, whatever, Red. Be a nonbeliever."

Kurt looked away. "For those of us in the faith, we believe that there are both benevolent and malevolent forces that walk the earth, commanded by God and Lucifer respectively. Some believe that what many call ghosts of the dead are in fact demons instilling fear into our souls."

Tabitha had to ask. "How do you figure, Big Blue?"

"'Be not forgetful to entertain strangers: for thereby some have entertained angels unawares.'" Kurt said. "If angels walk among us, why shouldn't demons?"

Jean didn't say anything regarding the biblical passage, but merely replied. "Well, let's hope it's nothing like that. Odds are it's something from the natural realm."

Kurt nodded.

Suddenly, there was rattling from down an adjacent hall. Everyone's head snapped down that direction. "You sure about that, Red?" Tabitha said.

Jean reached out with her telepathy to see if there was someone making that noise, but she found zip. "I can't find anyone there. It's like there's no one there."

Kurt swallowed nervously. "But…something caused that noise, right?"

"Keep close."

Jean silently stepped towards from whence the noise emitted, the others close behind. None knew what to expect, but their training began to work into overdrive. Each step was silent and careful as the gap between their unknown quarry and they closed while time seemed to slow with each step gained. Finally, they were at the corner. Jean reached out with her telepathy again, and found a signature, but it was muffled, akin to white noise. Forgetting her aggravation at having her telepathy fail, she looked at Tabitha. "Tabs, ready one of your bombs. I'm going to toss it around the corner."

Grinning, Tabitha rubbed her hands together, forging a small explosive in her hands. "Gotcha. Make it a fun one." Tabitha held up the kinetic charge, primed to explode in a few seconds. Tossing it up, Jean grabbed it telekinetically and tossed it around the corner quickly. Almost instantly, a bang shattered the silence, followed by a cry of surprise. Jean, Kurt and Tabitha immediately dashed around the corner to confront the being, only to balk to find that it was a roughed-up Scott Summers, his mummy-costume mere shreds hanging off of him.

Jean immediately went to him, embracing him. "Scott! I was worried about you!"

Scott had to swallow a bit as Jean's arms wrapped around his neck. "Yeah, just barely."

Tabitha held a hand to her mouth. "Oopsie!"

Kurt asked, "Scott, what in _Himmel_ happened?"

Jean released Scott enough for him to speak coherently. "To be honest, I'm still trying to figure it out. But for now, we need to get everyone of here."

"What?" Kurt asked.

"I can't explain it, but there's something here. I ran into it and it nearly tore me up."

Jean paled at the prospect of something tried to rip up Scott.

Tabitha however was amused. "Oh yeah, was that before or after the last dance?"

Jean glared at Tabitha, but Scott interrupted. "No time, we need to get everyone out of here so we can deal with this thing without people getting hurt."

"What thing?" Kurt asked.

Suddenly, the lights went completely out again, startling everyone. Automatically, Kurt looked around. "Maybe what Scott said is a good idea."

Before they could do anything, they all heard a scream from deeper inside the school, the kind of scream that would turn anyone's blood to ice.

"What was that?" Jean whispered.

Before any could answer, there was an unearthly growling sound that seemed to come from everywhere, followed by dull footsteps.

Scott looked around. "It's here."

Everyone shrunk close. "I take it this is not part of the dance," Tabitha said dryly.

"Tabitha, throw a few charges down the hall the next time we hear something. Whatever this thing is, it moves very well in the dark. We need to be able to see it before it finds us."

Tabitha wordlessly created more charges, just as another growling sound echoed through the halls. Instantly, she tossed the charges down the hall it came from. In seconds, they detonated, illuminating the halls very briefly. The first few revealed nothing, and so did the next…

…but when the last one flashed, all glimpsed something moving around a corner.

Everyone held their breaths. "Did you see that?" Kurt whispered.

"Creepy thing creeping around the corner?" Tabitha whispered back. "Yeah."

"I couldn't tell what it was," Jean stated.

"You don't want to know," Scott said grimly. "It looks like it got over the look I gave it."

"Was that the explosion we heard?" Kurt said.

Scott got up. "No time! We need to follow it!"

"In the dark?" Kurt said.

Suddenly, the lights flickered back on again. Jean looked around, her eyes narrowing. "That was convenient."

Scott didn't notice. "Come on, it's heading for the gymnasium! Kurt, port us to that corner."

Kurt nodded determinedly, trying to swallow his apprehensiveness. "Grab hold, everyone!" Kurt laid his hands on Scott's and Jean's back, just as Tabitha laid a hand on his shoulder, and ported. Emerging around the corner, they all looked around. Suddenly, Kurt pointed. "Over there!"

All looked just in time to see something go around another corner, but again they could see what it was. After another command from Scott, Kurt teleported to the next corner. This time, Jean saw it. "There it is again! It went down the left hallway!"

Kurt looked perplexed. "But there isn't anything down there, just a dead end."

"Good, then it's trapped!" Scott said. "Come on!"

Tabitha shook her head. "Your man is crazy."

Jean had to scream mentally to not look at Tabitha as she followed Scott, but that urge evaporated instantly as they all rounded the corner.

"What?" Kurt exclaimed.

Even Scott was confused. "Where'd it go?"

They were all looking at an empty hall with no way out.

Jean scanned the hall. The flickering lights made it very difficult to see, but through it all, she espied a vent cover on the ceiling. "Everyone, look up. There's a vent."

Scott looked up and saw it as well. "It looks big enough, but it doesn't look like it's been moved. It couldn't have escaped through there."

"We don't even know what _it_ is," Tabitha said.

Kurt threw in. "You don't think it's a mutant, maybe? Maybe he's can walk through walls or can teleport like I can."

Scott shook his head. "If it was a mutant, I think the Professor would have told us already to look out for him or her. Plus, what I saw was something I wouldn't expect a mutant to look like."

Jean added, "The Professor might have tried to tell us something, but it didn't get through. My telepathy isn't working very well here. I can barely even read your guys' thoughts."

Scott looked at Jean. "But we talked to each other just fine a little bit ago."

"Yeah, but right after that, it all turned into white noise. Kitty is on the outside waiting for us, but I can't reach her."

Kurt cut in. "What are we looking for anyway?"

Scott rubbed his head. "I didn't get a good look at it—"

"But just enough to blast it through the wall?" Tabitha jested.

Before Scott could open his mouth to reply, there was a crash behind them all. Spinning around, they all screamed in surprise. Standing behind them was a thing on legs that looked like it was made of rotting meat, where its stump of a head carried only two black eyes that neither blinked nor moved. Its arms seemed to be scythes with two joints. It screamed at them hellishly despite having no mouth, flailing its arms around dangerous.

Scott ripped off his glasses again, firing an optic blast right into the creature, sending it into the opposite wall. Scott shut its eyes to contain the blasts, allowing the creature to recover and charge again, screaming like a ghoul. Jean picked up a nearby trashcan with her telekinesis and threw it hard at the creature, sending it back to the ground. Tabitha peppered it with cherry bombs from her hands, but this enraged it further. Finally, Scott opened his eyes again. "Take this, you rotten piece of meat!"

The blast impacted into the beasts shoulder, completely tearing off its arm. The creature roared in pain, looked at its stump at the shoulder, and screamed again, waving its free arm. Scott fired again, impacting its hips, this time blasting off a leg. It fell to the ground and lay there, gurgling in pain as it thrashed about.

Kurt was petrified. "What in Himmel is that?!"

Tabitha peppered it with more bombs, but they didn't seem to be doing much good. "It ain't from heaven, Big Blue…"

"Yeah, and I'm sending it back where it came from," said Scott, opening his eyes once again.

The blast hit it straight in the head, blasting it right off and sending the corpse again to the far wall. Finally, it lay still, although sounds of gurgling still emitted from it.

All took a moment to breathe. Tabitha finally said. "What kind of thing was that?"

Scott slipped his shades back on, allowing him to see without blasting anything. "I don't know. I only knocked it out last time when I saw it. Looks like we finally killed it."

Kurt crossed himself. "I never thought I would see something like that."

"Join the club," Tabitha said.

"Something's not right here," Jean said plainly.

"What?" Kurt said.

"Scott blasted off two of its limbs and its head," Jean said.

Scott's eyes narrowed as he looked at the thing's body while listening to Jean.

Tabitha crossed her arms. "Ok, with you so far."

"Where's its blood?" Jean asked plainly.

That silenced everyone in the room. Apart from the trash all over the floor from the tossed trashcan, there wasn't a trace of blood from the creature.

Scott had to agree. "Yeah, something definitely wrong here."

"What if it's some kind of alien that doesn't have blood or something?"

"Get real, Blue," Tabitha said.

"Unlikely as that is," Jean added. "How could something like this even get into the school? Surely someone would have noticed.

"And what was that one scream we heard back in the hall before we saw this thing?" Scott added. "There are too many things adding up."

Suddenly, there was a fell roar that cut them off again, coming from the thing lying across the hall. All looked at it, suddenly seeing that its stumps were growing, into new limbs. It was regenerating. It took only a few seconds for it to get on its feet and replace its head. It looked at the four again, and shrieked.

Kurt finally acted after waking from his stupor, watching the whole thing. "Hang on, we're getting out of here!" He grabbed the others with all the limbs he could and ported, leaving the thing all alone in the halls, angry and blood-thirsty.

* * *

><p>Alchemist and Colossus walked down the center of a quiet street, listening for any sign of Quicksilver. It didn't take them long to suit up after they found a place to change, and now they were hunting down their mutual enemy, Quicksilver. Neither spoke of how difficult it was going to be to fight the fastest living thing they've ever seen, for no words needed to be said.<p>

"Pietro?!" Alchemist shouted with authority. "Show yourself!"

There wasn't a sound in response, but Alchemist knew better than to believe Quicksilver wasn't listening. Quicksilver was far too much of an ass to run off without giving more than what he had already given Jason. Quicksilver was merely standing a distance off, brainstorming new ideas to stick Alchemist where it hurt.

"I know you're listening, Pietro, and I don't have the time to stand around while you sit on your ass and getting fat like your roomie!"

There was nothing in response for a brief second, but then Alchemist heard something in the distance that sounded like a wind tearing up something. His eyes widening, he hissed, "Move!"

Alchemist and Colossus leaped aside, just as a silver and teal blur raced past them both. As they recoiled against the wind that raced by, Alchemist didn't see Quicksilver blast right up to him and bowl him over again. Sprawling as he picked himself up, Alchemist looked hard at Quicksilver, who gloated. "Now how long did it take you to come up with that one? Three whole seconds?"

Alchemist felt obliged to not take the bait. "Took your damn time, Pietro. Had to remember how to tie a shoelace?"

Quicksilver glowered at Alchemist. "You're going to wish that you didn't come looking for me, X-Geek, so how about you enjoy the dirt I'm about to feed you?"

Alchemist moved his hands together stealthily. "Sure, but how about you taste it for me?" He slapped a hand against the pavement.

Quicksilver only had time to gasp before a pillar of asphalt rose up sharply underneath him, sending him straight into the air. Alchemist twisted around back on his feet. "Peter! Batter up!"

Instantly turning into metal, Colossus answered. "With pleasure!" Swinging an arm around, he intercepted Quicksilver's fall, sending him flying down the street, rolling to a stop a small distance away.

Alchemist brushed his hands off. "You might be fast, Pietro, but after this and the leg-deal back in Forge's old lab, you might want to stay away unless I decide to follow my previous threat up this time."

Quicksilver picked himself up, a little shaken by the blow but unhurt. He probably had his ungodly resistance to air friction to help him out there. "Well, it looks like the Tin Man finally got some balls. Took you long enough."

Colossus' eyes narrowed at the shot, but Alchemist answered for him. "More than you'll ever have, Pietro."

Quicksilver sneered. "Wow, that was not cliché at all."

Alchemist slapped his hands together, causing his hands to spark with alchemic energy. "You want to know what's cliché, Pietro?" Slapping a hand against the concrete pillar he transmuted earlier, he re-transmuted his signature weapon of choice from it, a quarterstaff. "Ass-hats. Even worse, they're never in style." Pointing his staff at the slim mutant, his glared hardened even more. "So, be like the mullet and disappear!"

Quicksilver grinned. "Ooh, sounds like a challenge!" Without another word, Quicksilver dashed up and grabbed Jason's staff. Whirling it about, Alchemist found himself flying face first into a nearby car. Colossus was too dumbfounded by the surprise move that all he could do was stare while Quicksilver mocked. "Well, challenge accepted." He spat as he continued. "Just remember, 'Alchemist': you were the one stupid enough to challenge me. But let's make it fun! Say 'buh bye, Bayville!'"

Quicksilver dashed away with blinding speed, blasting the air so hard that the windows of both cars and building shattered as he whipped by in a blur.

Colossus had braced himself against the wind when Quicksilver dashed off. Once the wind died down, he looked at Alchemist who was just picking himself up, rubbing his head. Alarmed, Colossus ran to him. "Jason, are you all right?"

Alchemist shook out his head. "Well, aside the fact that my head feels like a bell, I'm just dandy." Jason glared down the avenue of broken glass. "So much for the easy part."

Suddenly a voice came pouring through their heads. _"Jason, are you all right?"_

Alchemist looked down the road, as if thinking the voice was coming down from there. _"Like I just told Peter, I'm just dandy, Professor. What's going on?"_

Colossus noticed Alchemist's eyes go distant. "Jason?"

Alchemist looked at Colossus. "The Professor decided to drop a line," he explained.

"_There's something going on at the school. I can't reach any of the others except Kitty."_

That startled Alchemist enough to forget his headache. _"Do you need us to go there and help?"_

Before the Professor could reply, there was another sonic boom in the distance.

"_First, pacify Quicksilver as fast and discreetly as you can. Make sure no one sees you. If you can't do anything without being seen, leave the area immediately."_

Jason gritted his teeth at such an implication, but he knew why he had to obey. _"Understood. We'll get it done."_

When the Professor didn't respond, Jason said aloud. "We need to end this fast; the Professor needs us at the school."

Before Piotr could respond, a voice interrupted him. "Hey, have you guys seen a ferret come by here lately? He's a little jittery and won't hold still." said a voice.

Both Alchemist and Colossus looked around, but saw nobody. "Wha—? Who's there?"

"Oh, nobody special; just your average spider in the corner of your house that no one can ever seem to get rid of."

Alchemist finally looked upwards and espied a lead figure crouched against the wall—no, _on_ the wall. Alchemist narrowed his eyes, completely perplexed. "What the hey?"

The figure leaped off the wall in a graceful flip, landing perfectly in a crouch beside the two. "If you're looking for hay, you're out of luck. There's a shortage of it in a town like this."

Alchemist took a good look at the figure. He was dressed in a red-and-blue costume, decorated with web-like markings, dominated by a black spider on the chest. His eyes were huge, angled and featureless outside of black bordering. One look at the spider on the chest tipped the youth off. "Spider-Man?"

The figure didn't appear to blink. "You were expecting Neil Patrick Harris?"

Jason picked himself up. "I wasn't expecting anybody. Now, what's this about a ferret?"

"YAAAHHOOOOOOO!" came a scream down the road, followed immediately by a sonic boom.

Spider-Man looked to see where it came from, feeling an itching in his bones to move. "Oh, here he is."

All jumped aside, just in time as a blue darted by them, sending broken glass and trash flying in his wake. Recovering, Spider-Man quipped. "So, I suppose this isn't a good time for me to say 'nice costumes?'"

Quicksilver stopped and turned around. "So, X-Geek, you think you're still able to play on my lev—" He cut himself off as he spotted Spider-Man. Instantly, his face twisted into a glare. "You again?!"

Spider-Man waved. "Oh hey! It's Thunderbutt…wait, that's not right."

Quicksilver looked like he was ready to pop an artery. "I told you to mind you own goddamn business!"

"Is that what you said?" Spider-Man said. "Geez, that's what I get for making a costume that covers the ears."

Alchemist was incredulous. "You two know each other?"

"No!" Quicksilver spat.

"That hurt, dude," Spider-Man quipped.

"You just had to get in my way, didn't you?" Quicksilver snarled. "Well, you little tick, not today! After I'm finished with Jason the Wonder-Nerd, you're next!"

Alchemist picked up the staff he dropped. "Come and try!"

Quicksilver made as to dash right up to Alchemist, but found his foot stuck in something incredibly sticky. His anger forgotten, he looked down to see that his right foot was buried in a while gooey mess that stuck to the ground like gum. "What the hell is this?!" Quicksilver roared.

"Oops, my bad. I was aiming for your mouth, but I missed. Sorry!" Spider-Man shrugged.

Alchemist and Colossus just stared at the web slinger. "You…did that?" Colossus asked.

"Guilty!" Spider-Man said. "It's just what I do. I'd be a pretty bad spider if I couldn't make webs now, could I? So, I have these fancy web-shooters right here and boom!" Spider-Man demonstrated with a flick of the wrist, firing another glob of webbing at Quicksilver's other foot. "Webs on command."

Alchemist had to fight the urge to laugh at seeing Quicksilver's reviled look at being stuck to the ground by both feet. "You know something? I take back whatever I said about spiders." He supported himself against his staff and allowed himself to smile.

Quicksilver saw red. "You think this is over?!" At once, Quicksilver twisted around slightly. "Nowhere close!" Like cracking a whip, Quicksilver snapped around into a spin. The sheer force and speed of the spin caused the webbing to stretch as he continued to spin, until it finally broke.

Spider-Man, Alchemist and Colossus stepped back a bit. "That's not good," Alchemist said.

Quicksilver laughed as he continued to spin. "You're out of your league, Alchemist! Now, it's TWISTER TIME!"

He spun harder, causing the winds around him to rotate and tighten around him, growing more and more powerful as the pressure dropped. In short, Quicksilver became a living vortex.

All three of the others braced themselves as the winds continued to climb, but the wind was slowly winning over them as it tore at any unprotected part of them. Suddenly, Alchemist and Spider-Man were overcome by the winds and swept away.

Colossus, held only in place by his five-hundred-plus-pound metal mass, saw it all. "Jason!" he cried.

Spider-Man had just enough wits to shoot a web-line at a lightpole, but just as he did, he saw Alchemist go flying past him. Horrified, Spider-Man fired another line at the siding of a building, and let the wind swing him towards the boy. Firing another line, he caught Alchemist right in his side and pulled.

Alchemist didn't know what happened. One second he was facing Quicksilver, the next he was flying through the air, and then the next he was in the clutches of a web-slinging nutcase on the side of a building. Looking around, trying to get his bearings, he looked at Spider-Man. "Uhh…thanks."

"Wait for the bill," Spider-Man quipped. "You think these webs are cheap? Geesh, I should charge you guys like ten bucks every time I have to—_**YAAAHAHAHAHAHA!" **_Spider-Man squealed as his senses went berserk. Leaping off the building, he was able to avoid airborne debris that would have taken his webbed head clean off. Landing on the ground, he found that they had traveled a full hundred feet down the street. "I don't freaking believe it. I screamed like a little girl. I screamed. Like. A. Girl. No wonder no one ever takes me seriously."

Alchemist tried to keep low as the wind continued to whip at his face. "I won't tell if you won't."

Colossus came running towards them, his eyes showing great concern. "Are you all right?"

"Besides my pride being kicked like a bad puppy, I'm good," Spider-Man quipped.

Colossus motioned to the only other person here. "I meant Jason, Spider-Man. He is terrified of tornadoes."

Alchemist looked annoyed. "I think I have a perfectly legitimate reason."

"And how," Spider-Man said. "Speaking of…" He motioned to Quicksilver who was closing in on them.

"Yeah," Alchemist said. "This ends now. Peter, how's your javelin arm?"

Colossus looked at Alchemist strangely, but then the implications dawned on him. "I-I don't know if I can hit him."

Alchemist clapped his hands together. "Well, let's find out if the Russians are really going to London next summer, Rasputin!" Slamming his hands down on the ground, he transmuted another stab, but this one was blunt on one end and had small fins on the other. Once it was done, he handed it to Colossus. "Go for the gold!"

Spider-Man had watched the whole thing. "Ok, I'm definitely going to regret asking this, am I?"

Alchemist shot Spider-Man a half-annoyed glare. "Later. Right now, we have a jerk to knock out of the sky!"

Colossus looked at the object in his hands, his anxiety trying to convince him it won't work. However, he looked at Alchemist and nodded. Glaring at the incoming Quicksilver, he held tightly to the blunt spear. "_Ubiraĭsya, suka_!" he yelled, and heaved the spear up and out.

The projectile flew up and into the circulation. All could hear it hit something solid, followed by a cry of pain. Quicksilver fell from above in a spin, and crashed onto the sidewalk, the winds instantly dying.

Spider-Man didn't hesitate. Leaping over Colossus with unprecedented grace, he fired a series of web shots at Quicksilver's feet as soon as he stood back up shakily. Before he could protest, Spider-Man fired another set at his arms and legs, pinning him against the wall. Not convinced, Spider-Man fired more and more shots until Quicksilver was so covered in web that only his face remained uncovered.

Quicksilver tried to struggle, but the webbing held fast. He was caught. "Damn you!" he screamed. "When my father hears about this, he'll squish you like the insect you are!"

Spider-Man slouched. "For crying out loud, I'm not an insect! I'm a…a…" Spider-Man held his hands to where his mouth would be, as if he was going to sneeze. "a…a…ACHOO!" As Spider-Man sneezed, his hands shot out one last glob of web fired, sealing Quicksilver's mouth.

Alchemist smiled. "_Gesundheit_."

"Thanks…" Spider-Man pretended to wipe his nose. "As I was saying…"

"I think he got the picture…" Alchemist interrupted, trying not to laugh as he heard Quicksilver's incoherent yells. "Nice job, Spider-Man."

Spider-Man held a hand out. "That will be fifty dollars."

Alchemist crossed his arms. "Yeah, like that'll happen. But seriously, thanks."

Colossus nodded. "Thank you, Spider-Man."

"Yeah? Well, maybe if you teach me that magic trick of yours, maybe I'll cut you some slack."

Alchemist smiled. "Sorry, this was something I was born with. But that reminds me: Spider-Man, it looks like you have a pretty awesome gift, like us. Any chance that you are a mutant like Peter and me?"

Despite his mask hiding any emotion, Spider-Man looked quizzical. "You mean like those people in the world born with special powers or something? Sorry, but I ain't in that club. I got my powers from being bit by a radioactive spider."

Alchemist shrugged. "Details. What I'm getting at is that right now, me, Peter and many like us are trying to stay on the down-low with your powers." Alchemist began to plead. "Basically, I'm just asking…can you please not mention you saw us with powers at all? We can't let mutants get thrown out into the public eye right now. You understand?"

Spider-Man knew where Alchemist was coming from. At the Bugle, his Nazi of a boss seemed to make it a personal mission to smear Spider-Man on the front pages anyway we could. Still, at least the public liked him somewhat. To say the same about these guys was right now impossible. "My lips are sealed," Spider-Man said. "Although that's not saying much."

Alchemist smiled. "Yeah, yeah, keep talking."

Spider-Man then looked down the street and saw very familiar red and blue lights racing their way. "Uh-oh! If you guys want to stay on the down-low, now's the time to am-scray!" Firing a web-line, he swung away into the darkness. "Sorry I can't stick around!"

Alchemist and Colossus watched him go, and looked to see what Spider-Man saw. "I think it's a good time to take the web-head's advice!" Alchemist said. "Come on!"

As Colossus and Alchemist ran down an alley way, Quicksilver continued to yell at them, but to no avail. He was the mercy of the police; there was no getting out now.

* * *

><p>Kitty was nervously waiting outside the gymnasium. Having discovered the reason why the door was locked, she was able to unlock it again to permit those inside out. By now, the dance was pretty much cancelled as no one else was able to figure out why the electricity was still out, but Kitty remained, waiting for anything from inside.<p>

She never noticed how dark the school was at night, even more so with almost every light in the building out. She had noticed the occasional flickering of the fluorescent lights in the halls through the window, and had looked through the windows to see if she could glimpse anything. After failing to do so, she stayed put outside, fretting.

She partly wished Jean allowed her to come with her to search for Scott, but that one glimpse inside had her hesitating. Something was going down in there and it was creepy. She had considered using her intangibility to walk inside the walls without being noticed, but being a creature that depended on oxygen to survive she could only go as long as she could hold her breath. Even then, she wasn't sure she wanted to be in there right now anyway. So, here she waited.

"_Kitty?"_ came a telepathic voice.

Kitty looked up. It was the Professor. _"Professor?"_

"_What's going on there? There's a cloud of telepathic haze covering half of the school. I can't contact Jean or Scott."_

"_First I'm hearing of it. I was told to wait out here until Jean called or they all came out."_

There was a pause in the telepathic plane. _"Very well, remain. I have contacted Jason and Piotr to go the school, but they are currently engaged in their own problems._

Kitty had to ask. _"What do you mean?"_

"_Quicksilver decided to challenge both Jason and Piotr mere minutes ago. They are currently dealing with it, but will come to support you once they finish. In the meantime, don't do anything—" _The voice cut itself off momentarily.

Kitty blinked as she called. _"Professor?"_

"_I'm sorry, Kitty. Cerebro interrupted me. I just detected a mutant signature at the school."_

Kitty's eyes flashed. _"What?"_

"_It's not a new mutant signature; it's a familiar one." _The Professor paused again. Kitty assumed he was studying the readout. _"Kitty, the signature was cryokinetic. It was small but recognizable. It was Bobby."_

"_Bobby?" _

"_Yes, and it originated in a location not too far from your position, outside of the telepathic fog."_

Kitty looked around the area, but couldn't see anything in the tenebrosity of the night. However, she knew there was a wooded area right near the school that separated the school from a nearby park. Was it possible?

"_Professor, remember the woods near the school? Bobby might be hiding somewhere in there or nearby. Mind if I check it out?"_

"_Kitty, don't do anything rash. This telepathic fog has me worried and I don't need to lose you in something similar."_

"_I'll be okay, Professor. I'll phase into the ground if something goes wrong. Hopefully, it's just Bobby doing something stupid."_

"_Very well then, but if you hear Jean call for you, do whatever she says."_

"_Yes, Professor."_

As the telepathic thoughts ceased, Kitty strode towards the wooded area quickly, determined to find Bobby and give him the intangible version of a kick in the butt for showing off. Granted, she didn't know it was Bobby showing off, but ninety-five percent of the time, that was exactly what Bobby was doing. The best she could hope for was that it wasn't an ice sculpture of something vulgar.

As she came close to the woods, she noticed flickering light coming from along the walls of the school. Looking closer, she saw it was coming from a set of stairs that led down beneath the school. _"Wait a minute, that's where Forge's old lab was. That place was supposed to be abandoned."_ Kitty's eyes narrowed as she thought. _"What's going on down there?"_

Her curiosity winning, she crept down the stairs ever so slowly; there was someone fooling around down here and she didn't want to alert anyone just yet. The first room was still dusty and littered with cardboard boxes, just like last time. Kitty imagined that they had not been touched since the X-Men were down here last time, roughly a month prior. The door ahead was shut tight, but through the windows she could see a lot of light coming through. Peering through, she saw two shadowy figures hunched over what looked like a whole bunch of TVs. It reminded Kitty of a security room, each TV displaying a different part of its monitoring area. Kitty narrowed her eyes; there was no way that this was a real security room. For one thing, if it really was, why does it have power as opposed to the rest of the school?

Kitty phased through the wall before even planning what to do once she got through, but one thing was clear: silence was crucial. Neither hunched over the nexus of computer screens had noticed Kitty's entry; whether from apathy or inattentiveness was unclear. Kitty recognized the two figures: Bobby Drake, and the tech genius, Jonathan Silvercloud, whom she knew better as Forge. In Bobby's hand, he noticed there was a soda with fresh ice in it. Seeing no cooler, Kitty guessed that Bobby created the ice himself; alerting Cerebro, perhaps?

Kitty had no time to consider that small revelation as it was irrelevant to the grand scheme here. Keeping her lips still and her ears and eye open, she listened and observed.

Bobby was having a hard time keeping from laughing too hard. "Man, I still can't get over how spooked they were when they saw the Hunter regenerate."

Forge answered. "It was a good choice. Never thought we could find anything that creepy to use, and I've seen _Alien_."

Bobby looked at Forge. "I thought _Alien_ came out after you got sucked into Limbo, or whatever you called it."

"Middleverse, and it did; I saw it a couple weeks ago."

"Oh," Bobby simply replied. "Have you seen them anywhere else in the school?"

"Not yet. After Kurt ported them all away, I haven't found them yet. The gym has already been cleared out, the halls are empty, even the cafeteria is empty."

"What about the auditorium?"

Forge shook his head. "No good. There aren't any cameras facing any good angles in there. If they are there, I couldn't see them."

"I don't think they're outside; I was out there a few minutes ago, and all I saw was Kitty waiting outside the gym. They have to be in the auditorium."

"Well, without eyes, I can't do a thing without giving the prank away."

Kitty couldn't tell from where she was standing, but Bobby looked thoughtful. "Hey…who said you needed to _see_ scary things to be scared?"

Forge looked strangely at Bobby; then the implication finally seeped through. "Groovy! Should be a cinch to get sounds to play in the auditorium. Which ones should we try?"

As the two conspirators laid out the next phase of their plan, Kitty scowled at them. _"So, all this creepy stuff was like a little joke by these two clowns? Well, we'll see about that."_

* * *

><p>"All right, fuzzball, where'd you port us?" Scott said, seething nothing but darkness.<p>

"We should be on the stage in the auditorium," Kurt replied rather sheepishly. "Sorry, I forgot it was completely dark."

"Well, let's just hope there won't be any more of those…things we saw," Tabitha said.

"I'm glad you brought that up, Tabs," Jean said. "Did anyone see anything wrong with it?"

There was nothing but silence for a good few seconds. Tabitha responded first, "You mean besides the fact that it looked like the leftovers of a butcher shop that wanted to butcher _us_ instead, right?"

Scott ignored the dripping sarcasm of that remark. "I was too busy trying to keep it away from us. What are you getting at, Jean?"

"Scott, you blew off one of its limbs, and it shrugged it off like it was no big deal."

Kurt responded first. "Yeah, and it grew it right back! Jean, _everything_ was wrong about it!"

Jean ignored the hyperbolic exclamation. "Come on, guys, forget how the thing looked for a second and think about what was going on around it. For instance, when the limb came off: shouldn't something have happened?"

"Like what?" Scott said.

"Remember when I said there wasn't any blood?"

"Yeah?"

"Something moving as fluid as that should have been shedding something when its arm came off." Jean rubbed her temple in thought. "There was something else: there was something…familiar about the way it behaved and moved, like it was moving…too correctly."

Kurt scratched his furry head. "Yeah…it did look like something that stepped out of a PIXAR movie."

"Plus, how did it get behind us?" Jean continued. "We chased it into a dead end and it vanished. Sure, there was a vent in the ceiling, but it was way too small for it to crawl into, especially that fast. As a matter of fact, there aren't any vents big enough for it to crawl around in, and even if it could, I think we would have heard it move around with those arms of his."

Tabitha was working all those questions through her head, and finally asked. "You think we're being played?"

"That would be my guess: this is someone's idea of a really sick joke."

Scott replied first. "Well, can't you find out where this jerk is so we can tell him to quit it?"

Jean put her hands to her head as she tried to reach out with her telepathy, and her eyes narrowed in frustration. "I'm still not getting anything; it's like a telepathic fog in here. I don't know if I can reach Kitty outside."

Scott reassured. "Keep trying; the Professor has to be able to sense you trying. Maybe he can cut through whatever is blocking you. In the meantime, Kurt, teleport us out of the school so we can meet up with Kitty."

"Sure; let's just hope whatever that thing was, it's long gone now."

Suddenly, all heard something that sounded like a door shutting. It was faint, but very clear. Everyone froze, paralyzed in nervousness as silenced reigned the darkness once again.

"You had to say it, didn't you, Kurt?" Scott said ruefully. "You just couldn't leave well enough alone."

"Shh!" Jean hissed. "I thought I heard something else."

"What?" Kurt said.

A few seconds pause. "That. Do you hear it?"

All strained to listen. "No, I don't hear anything," Kurt said.

Suddenly, they all heard dull footsteps trumping against the floor, ever so slightly growing more distinct.

"Ok, that's it," Kurt said. "We're getting out of here!"

But before he could, the sound of the footsteps was interrupted by brief bits of loud noise, and the steps that did come through were now irregular. That stunned everyone enough to forget being scared. "What in the world?" Jean said.

Suddenly, the noise erupted into a full ear-bleeding white noise. It was so deafening that it went straight to their heads. Every one of them held their hands against their ears, trying to soften it. Scott had to scream. "Kurt, get us out of here now before we all go deaf! Everyone, huddle so he can get us all in one jump!"

Kurt obeyed wordlessly. Everyone huddled together and Kurt teleported right there and then. Each one of them felt a pull from the ground, felt themselves flying something very fast—all they could see was a flashes of red and black—and suddenly, all found themselves crashing into dusty cardboard boxes in a dark room.

Each one picked themselves up gingerly, their ears still ringing from the deafening white noise they just left. Scott picked himself up, as well as picking a cardboard box off his head. "Ugh, Kurt, you have got to work on your reentries."

Kurt kicked off a cardboard box himself, and looked around in the moonlit darkness. "Oops, I meant to teleport us just outside this room. Guess I accidentally focused on the inside instead."

Tabitha dusted herself off. "At least were totally out of there. I like things loud, but not like that kind of loud."

Jean looked around. "Well, at least were out of there, so let's go find Kitty and find out what's going on."

"Like, you called?" said a cheery voice.

Everyone nearly jumped out of their skin, spinning around to face the source. All found Kitty framed by open doors.

"Whoa, like take a break, guys!" Kitty said. "It's only me."

Everyone relaxed. Kurt nearly collapsed in relief. "_Gott sei dank_, a friendly face."

"Kitty?" Jean said. "What are you doing here?"

Kitty smiled innocently. "Totally teaching some naughty boys a lesson." With that, she swung open the doors behind her, revealing what was on the other side. Stepping aside, she proclaimed. "Ladies and gentlemen, the men behind the curtain!"

All looked inside to see Forge and Bobby, sitting rather sheepishly among a bunch of sparking computer equipment and screens depicting unadulterated white noise.

Scott's eyes narrowed behind his glasses. "What's going on here?"

Jean was about to ask the same, when she realized something. "Hey, I can use my telepathy again! The fog is—" She suddenly chills of guiltiness coming from Bobby and Forge. "All right, you guys. Spill it. Now."

Bobby and Forge gulped audibly, while Kitty tried to stifle her giggles.

* * *

><p><em>Some time later…<em>

Bobby and Forge had quite the tale to spin for the more annoyed members of the group, and upon completion, there was an uneasy pause for quite some time. Finally, Scott said while crossing his arms, "Well, I hope you're satisfied. You certainly had your fun, in addition to all the damages to the school that happened in result of that…thing you set loose."

Tabitha interrupted. "What _was_ that thing, anyway?"

Bobby sheepishly held up what appeared to be a computer game case. Jean took it from him and inspected it. A brief look over gave her a slightly sickened look. "_Dead Space_?"

"It's a very scary video game," Bobby explained, shrugging. "I was able to hack into it and grab some of the models and game engine. Forge here was able to reconstruct it using holographic technology."

Kitty asked. "But like how was he even able to send out holograms in the first place? Back at the Institute, you totally need an entire room."

Forge started beaming. "It wasn't that hard. I was able to construct a device that I call a holo-projector. The computers these days are amazing. I just had to attach a few cables from the computer to the holo-projector and I could broadcast whatever I wanted _wherever_ I wanted. Hacking into the security was a cinch."

Kitty wasn't convinced. "That's totally cool and all, but how would you be able to broadcast it to anywhere in the building?"

Forge shrugged. "The security cameras. I was able to reverse engineer them from the inside from back in my old lab to be projectors. I could even make it switch from a camera and back when I needed a better angle to project."

Kitty looked completely baffled. "Just how did you do that?"

Bobby had to smile. "Oh, there's more."

Scott still looked miffed at the entire escapade he was forced to endure at the hands of these two pranksters, but remained silent.

"We also ripped sound effects from that game to make the creature, called a Hunter, more believable. We couldn't do everything though. When you guys got rid of its arm, you probably noticed there was more blood. I couldn't quite depict that very well through the holo-projector. Other than that, the rest was pretty believable…for a computer generated model, that is."

Tabitha smiled. "Well, now I feel like a stiff for breaking up such a great prank?"

Scott finally said something. "'Great prank'? That 'great prank' was trying to kill us!"

Bobby frowned. "Come on, Slim. Do you think we would have let it go that far? Sure, the Hunter likes to rip you open from the gut outwards, but we had everything in control."

Jean gave the box back to Bobby. "Was that supposed to make me feel better? Because it didn't."

Scott relaxed. "Ok, well, you had your fun. But how did it all die right at the end?"

Forge and Bobby looked at Kitty, who said. "Well, I might have had something to do with that. See, I kind of walked in on him…if you like get me."

No more words needed to be said; it was common knowledge that Kitty's intangibility powers had a reputation for disrupting any electronics she happened to phase through. Despite severely damaging the machinery, Kitty always came out unscathed.

"There's still one more thing:" Jean said. "My telepathy could not work properly while we were wandering around inside the school, but now it works fine." Her eyes slightly narrowing, she charged. "Did you do something about that too?"

Bobby and Forge looked at each other before Forge ventured, "Well, not intentionally. See, what I failed to account for was that this holo-projector apparently send out a large electromagnetic field. It's...possibly that it was interfering with your telepathy. If you have communicators, they probably wouldn't have worked either. I was able to keep the field out of the room we were in, but not the rest of the school. Sorry."

Jean crossed her arms as she thought about this explanation; finally, she shrugged. "I guess that's better than whatever I'll come up with."

Scott finally said. "Well, I think we'd better clear out everything before tomorrow comes around."

"Leave that to me," Forge said. "See, if I stepped away from the console for anything more than a minute, the computer was programmed to begin self-destruct protocols. First, it would completely erase anything I have done, reverse any tinkering I have done, and finally self-destruct, just like my old lab was wired to do. Should be done right about—" Forge was interrupted by a series of explosions coming from the basement rooms. All looked to see flashes of light as the self-destruct protocol was in full swing. After a few seconds, there was nothing left save for the smoke that began pouring out. Forge smiled. "…now."

Just then, two figures ran towards them, armed with flashlights. Stopping a short distance away, they shown their flashlights at the group. The smaller of the two called out. "Guys?"

Everyone relaxed. It was Jason and Piotr. Jean noticed that the two were in uniform, but looked like they have seen a lot of action. "What happened to you two?"

Jason wiped the dirt from his face. "Long story, I'll have to tell you later. We came as fast as we could when the Professor called…" Jason trailed off, looking at all of them, a growing look of confusion on his scarred face. "…he said you might have needed help…" he said slowly, as if his mind was occupied with thoughts that weren't making sense. Finally, he lowered the flashlight. "We missed it, didn't we?"

There was a shared laugh among the others. Finally, Forge said. "Well, I'm going under to make sure everything was disposed of as it should have. See you guys later!"

As everyone was calling their farewells out to Forge, Jason looked even more confused. "Ok, what the hell happened?"

"Now _that_ is a long story…" Jean said.

Tabitha added, "Let's just say you just missed one of the most awesome pranks in school history."

Scott didn't seem enthused. "Well, that's up to debate…"

Jason chewed on his lip. "Well, I guess I'm going to have to take your word for it. Peter and I had a tangle with Pietro, but with a little help, we were able to leave him to more…legal people."

Kurt smiled. "Now that _does _sound like a long story, _mein freund_!"

Tabitha cut him off, however. "Sounds like we missed quite a party as well. Oh, well. This one was pretty loud too! We even had creepy sounds like that banshee scream we all heard, remember guys?"

The others, even Scott, nodded. "Ja," Kurt said. "I won't forget that."

Bobby however looked puzzled. "Scream?"

Kitty narrowed her eyes at Bobby, smiling knowingly. "Don't get coy, Bobby! We know it was you and Forge just messing us with those creepy sounds."

"What the hell are you guys talking about?" Jason asked.

Bobby looked serious. "I told you were used sound effects from the game I showed you. There's no banshee scream in the game at all. We didn't use any other sound effects."

The others paused for a second. Scott's eyes narrowed behind his glasses. "Joke's over, Bobby. Drop it."

"I'm not joking! We didn't use any scream sounds!"

Before anyone could say anything, Jean interrupted. "Guys, he's telling the truth. They didn't use that sound effect."

That silenced everyone. Finally, Kurt said, "Well…if he didn't…then who…"

All eyes turned towards the school, now completely dark…and alone…and mysterious.

Jason quickly said. "My god, would look at the time? I just remembered I have a ton of homework I need to do. Bye guys! See you tomorrow!"

The rest of them voice similar excuses and took off rather briskly for their respective vehicles. As soon as they left, the moon disappeared behind the clouds, drenching the area in torrential darkness…but if one looked just right at the second story window, they might see something…a slender figure, staring out the window, holding an old school book. The moon came out again, and as it shown its light again, the figure was gone as if it never was.

* * *

><p><em>[drops with exhaustion.] Thank god I was finally able to get here! I'm SO sorry for the long delay. The month of July was one of the worst months at work this year. Short staffs, car festivals, Independence Day, we got hit with it all. I just hope the coming months prove more merciful. You guys waited too long for this one.<em>

_If that wasn't enough, there were far too many ideas and drafts for this chapter. Rogue was actually supposed to come with Jason and Piotr to the haunted house, but that was cut completely. I also had no intention on expanding the prank at the high school dance like it did, but it did. _

_Anyway, that's enough for this chapter. _Dead Space_ is copyrighted ©2008-2012 to EA and Visceral Games. If you haven't played the game yet, play with the lights on…or don't. It's up to you._

_Now for some Q&A!_

_ecrm writes: **As a Mystique fan I have to say I absolutely love the way you write her; she's so powerful and dangerous its exciting when her and Jason face off, hopefully there'll more encounters in the future?**_

_Count on it. Jason has already received a hell of a lot from Mystique, but she is nowhere near done. In future installments, Jason just might find himself in deeper trouble with the shapeshifter. I can't tell you anymore as it is spoilerific, but keep reading and we're bound to see more between Alchemist and Mystique. Glad you liked it!_

_Now, here's what's next!_

_The Fall Musical has arrived! While the school counts down the final days before its big musical production, Jason and other students are caught up in it, all the while trying to balance their own lives with the chaos of preparation. To make things worse, an old friend decides to stop by…and he is certainly not welcome. Find out what happen next in __**Chapter 8: Showtime**__._


	9. Chapter 8: Showtime

**CHAPTER 8:**** Showtime**

* * *

><p><em>Undisclosed location – Wednesday, November 2, 2011 – 4:32 PM <em>

Jason looked around the darkness around him, but not at the darkness. Instead, he was observing what he would describe as rivers of color fly across the air, each one a completely different hue, but each as radiant as the next. Jason could look on in awe as each one breezed by. "Where are we?" he asked.

"The astral plane," said a kind but authoritative voice. "I have brought you here so that you can observe the forces that are close to us, yet we often see them not."

Jason turned to the source of the voice: Dr. Strange. "The forces, master?"

"Yes, magic, energy, even emotion can all be seen from this plane."

"Emotions too?"

"Yes. Surely, you have witnessed yourself how emotions affect others, and strong emotions like anger or happiness send shockwaves that can be felt by anyone who is near."

Jason looked confused. "Master, I'm not sure I follow."

"Recall when you were furious at the people around you when Hurricane Irene was looming upon the city?"

Jason winced as the memories of those days returned full fresh. "You had to pick that example, didn't you?"

"Bear with me, child," Dr. Strange said assuringly. "Your fury emitted powerful shockwaves that affected your friends. You remember how the others reacted? Some with hostility? Others with fear?"

Jason gulped, but something came to his mind. "H-how did you know?"

Dr. Strange smiled, and pointed to the blue stone pendant that hung around Jason's neck. "The Amulet of Agamotto is an extension of the Eye of Agamotto, which sees all."

Jason paled at that. He had forgotten that the amulet he was given also enabled Dr. Strange to see everything else around him. Feeling caught, he lowered his head. "Yes, master."

"Lift up your head, my student. You have already suffered enough for that mistake. In addition, you have already apologized and received forgiveness from whom you have hurt. Moreover, we cannot afford to dwell on the mistakes of the past as they serve only to trip us up. You can only look forward."

Reassured, Jason looked up with a smile of his own. "Thank you, master."

"Now, observe these forces. Each one gives power to those who understand them, and can only be utilized when the observer properly channels them. Any error and they could fail, or worse rebound. Alchemy is the same way. Like anything, it can be abused. Alchemy must answer to scientific laws, and thus it must remain in the scientific world. The moment someone tries to use power outside its established boundaries is when disaster strikes; when it does, there is no fixing it. Do you understand, Jason?"

Jason had listened carefully to the lesson Dr. Strange shared with him. As his mind digested the words, it began producing questions in addition to the ones already formulating as he observed the flows of power around them. Finally, he said. "I understand, master. I do have a question, however."

Dr. Strange nodded. "Speak."

"I understand that alchemy is bound to the physical universe and that by its nature the supernatural is forever beyond alchemy's reach, but I'm confused. If alchemy can never touch the supernatural realm, how could someone use it beyond its boundaries? Scientifically, it's impossible!"

Dr. Strange didn't speak right away; he was choosing his words carefully. "Correct, but there is still one crucial force that lives very well in the natural world, one that affects every man, woman and child that has, is and will draw breath as long as the Earth lives."

"What is that?"

Dr. Strange again was silent briefly, but then spoke one word. "Life."

Jason's brow furrowed in puzzlement; his mind could not comprehend the impact of that single word. "I…I don't understand."

"In time, you will. But for now, we must return to the world." With that, Dr. Strange raised one hand.

Jason suddenly gasped as his eyes shot open, his mind quickly taking in the new images around him. Slowly, he recognized the walls of the meditation chamber, as well as the immaculate floor he was sitting on decorated by a single but dominant eldritch array. Across from him sat Dr. Strange, looking more relaxed than Jason was feeling.

Jason held a hand to his head as he spoke; it felt heavy. "Whoa, that was quite a trip."

"You are faring very well for someone who has returned from his first journey through the astral realm. Most vomit."

Jason gulped a bit as nausea began squirming inside his bowels. "I can't imagine why."

Dr. Strange handed Jason a single chocolate bar. "Providing that you don't, this will help you feel better." Dr. Strange stood up. "That concludes our lesson for today. If I recall correctly, we will not be meeting Friday as you have extracurricular activities you must attend."

Jason nodded; the school musical was only days away now. Just thinking about it was turning the nausea in his stomach into butterflies. "Yeah, and I have a dress rehearsal in a few hours. Thank you, master." Jason fingered his pendant as he closed his eyes. "_Peto locus_."

In a flash of blue, Jason disappeared from the meditation room. Dr. Strange remained where he stood, thinking about his student. Jason's aptitude for his power was growing exponentially, as was his curiosity about it. Alchemy was a blessed tool in good hands, yet the ethics of it were often blurry. Jason had not encountered a moment when he had to make a difficult choice regarding his power, but that time would inevitably come. In response, Dr. Strange began shifting focus from actual alchemic knowledge to understanding the power itself, at least for the mean time. It was only a matter of time before Jason would soon face real tests with his alchemy, and they did not necessarily involve alchemy itself. All he could do was hope the Vishanti would watch over him and guide him when the Sorceror Supreme himself could not.

* * *

><p>Jason reappeared in his shared bedroom back at the Institute, grateful to be back in the more natural settings of the Institute. Rubbing his eyes, he sat down on his bed. "As cool as that place is, I'm glad to be back. I'm just glad that I didn't end up—"<p>

Nausea punched Jason right in the stomach like a punch from Colossus. Lurching, Jason instinctively grabbed a nearby trashcan and opened his mouth, permitting the vile spew boiling inside him to escape. It was not a gentle release. A couple minutes later, Jason gasped for breath as his skin clammed from the sheer amount of stress that was forced upon him, grimacing as the foul taste of bile coated his mouth and throat. He sat still for a minute, allowing himself to calm down so the vertigo in his head could dissipate. Jason eyed the piece of chocolate on his bed with a hint of distaste. Perhaps it was prudent not to sample the treat just yet.

"Jason?" came a voice from the door.

Jason looked up to see Piotr in uniform standing in the doorway with a worried look on his face. "Are you all right?" said Piotr.

Jason coughed a bit, replying hoarsely. "Yeah…hard lesson at the Santorum today…"

Piotr sat beside Jason, placing a heavy hand on his shoulder. "Do you need rest?"

Jason shook his head, clearing his throat out. Grimacing at the fresh taste of bile, he answered. "No, I'll be fine. I just need to take the trash out and get some water." Standing up, he pulled the bag out of the garbage can and tied it up tightly. "But enough about me. How was training today?"

Piotr averted his gaze at the mention of training.

Jason guessed at once. "That bad, huh?"

"It was Dead City exercise. Two of us race while trying to survive dangers."

Jason grimaced again. "Eugh, I think Scott told me about that exercise. Even the vets of the X-Men have a hard time with it. He wouldn't tell me any details though." Suddenly, Jason paled. "Oh god, that means I'm going to have to do it myself, am I?"

Piotr looked pityingly at Jason. "I am afraid so. Logan mentioned it once."

Jason looked like he tasted a lemon. "Fuck, that's even worse."

"I am sure you will do best you can."

Jason managed a weak-smile. "Yeah, I suppose." Looking down at the trash bag in his hands, he said. "I think I'd better get rid of this before it starts to stink."

"Do you have practice tonight?"

"Yeah, dress rehearsal. Showtime is Friday." Jason turned to look at Piotr. "Why do you ask?"

Piotr began to blush as his tongue caught in his throat. "I-I am sorry. I was wondering is all."

Jason's brow sank. "You sure?"

Piotr nodded. "Yes."

Jason regarded Piotr silently for a few more seconds, but finally shrugged. "If you say so. I'll see you later, and don't sweat it about the training exercise. I doubt I'll do any better than you." With that, he turned to leave. As he destined himself for the nearest dumpster, his mind processed everything on his agenda: the lessons he learned, the lines he had for the upcoming musical…but something shot to the top of his mind: Piotr's last words mere moments before. Instantly curious, Jason couldn't concentrate on anything else as his mind tried to explain Piotr's behavior at the end.

"_What are you up to, Peter?"_

* * *

><p><em>Thursday, November 3, 2011 – 7:00 AM<em>

Bobby Drake had been intensely inspecting the inside of his eyelids for light-permitting cracks for several hours when the ever petulant buzzing of his alarm clock decided his eyelids had momentarily passed the inspection. Clumsily he reached out for the offending clock and felt around it until he found the snooze. Now that the din of the clock was silenced, Bobby blinked as the light finally broke through his eyelids to force them open.

Sitting up in bed, he moaned as his stiff muscles protested as they stretched so quickly after hours of inactivity. Extending his arms as he stretched, two spears of ice materialized from his hands and flew through the air, shattering the mirror and a lamp. Instantly awake, he looked around at the damage.

"Aw, man! Not again!" Bobby sighed, clapping a hand to his head. That was the second time since he came to the Institute. Still, that wasn't as bad as freezing the bathwater solid before he came.

Looking around, he espied a digital camcorder sitting on his desk, and his mind instantly recalled what he needed to do today. Yesterday in Social Studies, they had received back their essays about foreign policy; specifically the Star Wars space defense program enacted by President Reagan. To say Bobby didn't do well on it would be a colossal understatement. While Bobby was quite the savant for cryokinetics, his blood chilled like ice when he saw his grade for that assignment. The only thing he imagined that would be worse was the inevitable punishment he would receive once the Professor heard about it.

Thankfully, not all was lost. His teacher, Mr. Vee, was gracious enough to provide him with an extra credit assignment: a video assignment on something that Bobby found important that had to depict social interactions. Bobby knew that it was an unusual assignment, but if it helped him bounce that bad grade up a notch, he'd take whatever he could get. The real problem was just what should he film.

His thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the door. Looking up, he answered. "Who is it?"

"Rise and shine, sleepy head," came a voice. It was Storm. Opening the door, she stepped in. "Breakfast in ten." Looking around, she espied the ice embedded in the mirror and lamp, but instead of talking about those mishaps, she saw the camcorder sitting on the desk right in front of the mirror. "And what have we here?"

Bobby rubbed the back of his head. "It's for my social studies class, a video assignment." Bobby smiled. "The Bobby Drake perspective."

Ororo looked amused. "I don't mind the Bobby Drake perspective…but an Iceman perspective more than likely won't fly." Ororo eyed the broken lamp again as she spoke.

Bobby had to concede that point, glancing at the mirror himself.

"I think once you are done with your work, you should let us see it before turning it in. I shouldn't need to say why."

"Yeah, I get it, Storm."

"Good, now up and at 'em. You'll be late for school if you wait too long." Ororo turned and left Bobby alone.

Bobby stood up and stretched again, keeping a tighter control on his frigid powers. Glancing to the camcorder, he muttered, "Well, Iceman, time to go to work."

* * *

><p>Jean Grey was in a bit of a bind, but nothing cataclysmic…or so it appeared. Inside her bedroom and still in her nightgown, she held various articles of clothing to herself in an attempt to choose the best thing to wear. Her current selection was a maroon sweater that complimented her hair fantastically. Voicing her thoughts aloud, he considered this piece of clothing. "How about…" Her brow sank. "No…" Placing the sweater aside, she grabbed a peach-yellow blouse and held it up. "Maybe…"<p>

"I recommend something with green. It would really make your eyes pop out."

Jean spun around, discovering Jason standing in the door frame with a bemused expression on his face. "Hey!" Jean sputtered, turning around, hugging the blouse tightly against her. "What are you doing?!"

Jason's bemused expression evaporated instantly, replaced with beet-red embarrassment. "What? I was just trying to—"

"Get out of my room right now!" Jean thrust a hand forward.

The door slammed shut with unseen hands right in Jason's face. Before he could recover, he found himself hurled against the opposite wall as the same force punched him in the chest. He sat there stunned for several seconds before picking himself up, grumbling as he rubbed the back of his head. "Everyone's a critic." Looking up, he called through the door. "A simple 'no' would have sufficed!"

"Are you going to let me have the CD or not?"

Jason turned to his right to see Kitty and Rogue walking down the hallway, arguing. This didn't surprise him at all; Kitty and Rogue argued fairly often, as much as expected from clashing personalities. Today was certainly no exception.

"So why don't you just get your own and stop like bothering me?" Kitty shot back.

"You've been hogging it for the last week and I need it to practice!"

"Like I said, get your own!"

Jason felt a muscle in his temple twitch as his patience ran thin. "Kitty! Rogue!" he barked. "Again?"

"Yes, again!" Kitty exclaimed. "Rogue can't get the point!"

Rogue was fuming. "Listen here, you little—"

"Girls, _both_ are you are pretty!" Jason snapped sarcastically. After getting mutual glares from both Rogue and Kitty, he continued angrily. "Now that I have your attention, I would like to present a solution to this debacle, if you don't mind."

Rogue crossed her arms, "Ok, fine. What did you have in mind?"

"To be honest, I'm surprised neither of you came up with this: why don't we all practice together after school? Most of the numbers you two practice to I share as well, even the ones without the ensemble. We can go to the old half-shell theater in the park; should be plenty of dancing room there." Jason's eyes narrowed. "Was that so hard?"

Rogue looked indignant, but was interrupted by Kitty. "Like lose the attitude, buster!"

Jason crossed his own arms, trying hard to keep his synapses from snapping. "Let's pretend for a second that wasn't obnoxious, Kitty. Shall we? Let's just think about what I said just for a second. How does my attitude change what I offered?"

Kitty glared at Jason, but found herself unable to rebut him.

"There was something that I remember from a certain showdown that you and I had just over two months ago. You wanted me to chill out and have fun at the hurricane party, and eventually I took your advice, and not a day goes by where I don't regret not becoming a complete asshole about it. Now I'm asking you to do the same…preferably without one of us saying something we'll regret three days later."

Kitty turned away, huffing. "Has anyone ever told you how you can be totally annoying when you're right?"

Jason relaxed, trying his hardest not to grin smugly. "Compared to me hearing how scary I am with I'm mad, I'll take it. You wouldn't know anything about _those_ little whispers, would you?"

Rogue had forgotten about her feeling indignant as she watched Jason shut down Kitty. It wasn't often someone was able to get Kitty to shut up about anything by reasoning with her, however bluntly. Looking away, she noticed something behind Jason…or rather someone. "Hey!" she barked. "What are you playing at, Frosty?"

Jason and Kitty looked at Rogue, and then followed her gaze down the hall to see Bobby, armed with a video camera and an eager smile. Jason's eyes narrowed as well. "You see anything you like, Michael Bay, or are there not enough explosions for you?"

Ignoring the shot, Bobby sheepishly stood up. "Sorry, guys. Just testing out the camera for my Social Studies assignment."

Rogue had not stopped glaring. "I'd better not see my face on there, or they're going to start calling you 'Ice Chips'."

Bobby ignored the threat. "So, what were you all talking about?"

Jason shrugged. "Oh, we're just trying to find a good time to work out the kinks in our dance choreography before showtime." Tilting his head towards Rogue and Kitty, he simply said, "So…?"

Kitty looked back at Jason, but finally sighed. "Fine, you win. After school be fine?"

Jason shrugged. "That would be the most logical time, yeah." Sobering up, he said. "Now, will the two of you be all right?"

Kitty smiled. "Oh, totally! Now all we have to do is make sure Rogue can keep up with us."

Rogue frowned. "Excuse me? I think what you meant to say is how you'll finally slow down so that the rest of us can keep in rhythm!"

As the two feuding females traveled on down an adjacent hallway, Kitty said, "Oh, like why would I ever say something so untrue?"

"Keep talking like that, and I'll show you what ends up being untrue!"

Jason sighed as the arguing dimmed as the two left. "Women."

"You can't live with them, and I can't get my socks washed without one."

Jason peered at Bobby. "I'm going to pretend I never heard that." A moment of silence past between the two, when Jason leaned in. "So how much did you capture anyway?" he whispered.

"The whole thing," Bobby whispered back.

"Any chance I can snag a copy?"

"Maybe. What do you have to give me?"

"I think I have five bucks in my wallet."

"Deal."

Jason pulled out a grimy five-dollar bill from his wallet and gave it to Bobby. "Great doing business with you, Bay."

Bobby stuffed the bill into his pocket and snickered. "I wonder how much I can get if I happened to catch some _real_ action around here…"

* * *

><p>Fairly soon, the Institute gathered around the table in the dining room for breakfast. The table was long and well able to seat all staying here, and was well stocked with early day cuisine enough to satisfy all. Jason was among those relatively late arriving to the table, but not so late that there was no chance to get his fill. Selecting a seat beside Piotr, he began filling his plate when he noticed Jean from across the table. Jean had the ever so slightest glare on her face when she looked at Jason, and Jason noticed. Deliberately scooping sausage and eggs onto his plate, he thought, <em>"Jean, I honestly wasn't snooping. I was just walking by and saw your door was open."<em>

Jean's face didn't change. _"Ever think of knocking, Jason?"_

Jason tried not to flinch at that simple revelation, but wasn't entirely successful. _"Damn it, why didn't I think of that?"_

"_I don't know. Come on, Jason, there _had _to be an incident in _Two and a Half Men_ that you like so much that involves something like what happened to you."_

Jason shook his head. _"No, I'm pretty sure Charlie or Alan never got blasted out the door by a telekinetic pulse."_

Jean's eyes narrowed ever so slightly. _"Not the point. I'm just trying to fish for an example you could have learned from."_

"_And you thought probing my head was the best way?"_

"_Well, I guess I could have just asked you out loud for one, but imagine how awkward and embarrassing that would be? I might even have to explain what happened to provoke such a question right her at the table."_

Jason looked rueful. _"You don't play fair, Jean."_

"_So, I've been told." _Jean relaxed. _"I know you were just trying to help, but next time, just knock, ok?"_

"_Yeah…"_

"Far be it from me to criticize," said the Professor from the head of the table. "But I'm under the belief that having a telepathic conversation with company present is rather rude."

Jason's and Jean's heads snapped towards the head of the table. "Were you listening in?"

Kitty looked at Jason. "So you like were?"

Jason felt his words lodge in his pharynx at Kitty's question, and was unable to respond.

The Professor smiled knowingly. "I didn't have to; both of your eyes told me everything."

As Jason and Jean blushed, Scott looked at Jean. "So…something you want to share?"

"No," Jason and Jean quickly said in unison, and both deliberately began eating their respective breakfasts.

The Professor only smiled with amusement, as did Ororo.

Jason and Jean were saved from further embarrassment as Kurt teleported in with his trademark sulfurous cloud right into his seat. Not missing a beat, his eyes flew over the food with relish. "I love the smell of bacon in the morning!"

The Professor decided to change the subject. "So, Jason, I understand your school musical is coming up very quickly."

Jason swallowed a forkful of scrambled eggs before answering. "Yeah, Friday night. It's been a long time coming, but I think we're for the most part ready." Jason rubbed his eyes at the thought of the long hours they all in the production had put in for the performance. "About time, really." Jason looked at the Professor. "Why do you ask?"

"Merely making sure that my schedule was clear for that evening."

"_Hard to imagine what a man in a wheelchair has extensively planned for an evening, but given present company, I suppose I should be surprised,"_ Jason thought. Aloud, he replied. "I didn't know you like musicals."

"Most seem to think I don't, or at least neutral to them. Never diminish my love for the arts, Jason. It is through art that culture speaks."

Jason tilted his head in a half-shrug in understanding.

Logan swallowed his own morsels before saying, "Well, happy for you, Chuck, but you'll have to excuse me if you never find me prowling museums." Espying the sausages out of reach, he said. "Pass the sausages down, would you Red?"

Jean reached out with her telekinesis to grab the plate and levitate it towards Logan. Kitty, who had been quietly enjoying her eggs, looked sick when the smell of the sausages reached her nostrils. "Eww, like why do you like those things? They totally clog your arteries."

Logan looked at Kitty. "I appreciate your concern." Flexing a wrist, his trademark claws shot out and skewered a selection of sausages, and placed them on his plate.

Jason rolled his eyes at witnessing Logan's unorthodox method of serving. "I don't think he has to worry about that anyway, Kitty." Jason's brow fell over his eyes when he noted Kitty's choice of food. "I thought you were a vegetarian, Kitty."

Kitty looked strangely at Jason. "Well, duh."

"And you're eating eggs?"

"It doesn't count."

"How?"

Kitty made a look as if what she was saying should be obvious. "Because it's not meat, Jason."

"It's the gamete of a chicken. Sure, it's only half a chicken in a way, but it's still a chicken."

"Now, Jason," interrupted Ororo. "It's very common for vegetarians to allow themselves to eat eggs, milk or various gluten-products to help balance their diets."

Kitty sneered. "See?"

Jason sighed. "Fine, you win."

"You could probably use a little less meat anyway, Jason."

Jason looked stung at that. Blinking several times, his eyes shot down to his waist. Pulling up his shirt and rubbing his torso, he tried to reassure himself he wasn't fat.

Scott decided to save Jason. "If there's anyone here who could use less meat, it's Kurt. Burger bombs, seven days a week?"

Kitty laughed at that, but then noticed something. "Where is he anyway?"

"Elf!" barked Wolverine.

All looked up to see Kurt was dangling from an overhead chandelier by his tail, reaching down for the sausage that was in front of Logan. Logan however had intercepted Kurt by slapping a lid over the sausages. "Is it really so hard that you couldn't ask for them?"

Kurt shrugged. "Sorry, Logan. I didn't want to interrupt the conversation!"

Jason rubbed his forehead with his fingers. "Kurt, this was one of those conversations that an interruption would have been welcome."

Piotr, who had sat quietly beside Jason, smiled as he drank his milk in silence.

"Well, since you don't have to worry about that anymore, bub, how about you port back down to your chair like a regular human being?" Logan growled.

Kurt saluted. "Aye, aye, Herr Logan." Without another word, he vanished in brimstone, reappearing in his chair.

Logan glared at Kurt. "Now that's better." Passing down the sausages, he growled. "Mind your manners."

Jason shook his head bemusedly. That was just one of the perks for living here: even something as small as breakfast was something to behold.

* * *

><p>It was a quiet but average November day; a nippy morning ushering in a crisp late autumn day complete with the slightest breeze to freshen the chill. Completely contrasting the peaceful nature of the day was a figure perched on top of the water tower overlooking Bayville. He had the countenance of a bear and was just as mean. His clothes hung off of him in tatters like shedding fur.<p>

Sabretooth.

It had only been just over two months since he was last here, and the memory burned him like acid. While the battle was technically a draw, his humiliation was not. His wrath and lust for violence burned all the stronger against the Wolverine, but now he had a second target: the one who dared challenge him, and even had the gall to blow his face off with a touch. What chafed him even further was that his new boss told him that the kid was now off limits from harm as he had something special for him.

Still, the time for that was still a good ways away. He reasoned that if he played his cards right, the kid could at least suffer some harm. What's a broken leg or two after all? Even then, the kid was not his chief concern. He was here for one person especially, and he was here to settle things for good. That was one of the conditions of signing on with Magneto: that he and the runt would settle things once and for all without his interference.

Magneto was in the middle of preparations for something up north, but he didn't care at the moment. There was only one goal and that was he was sitting on top of the water tower with a pair of binoculars, scoping the schoolyard from afar for any leads. Upon entering Magneto's service, he learned that the boss had a mole at the school, and of all the people it had to be, it had to be the blue scaly bitch. Even before his employ with Magneto, he and Mystique had their run-ins. At one point, they were even a team, but then after one fateful night where she became with child, he knew things would go badly. But before he could even really do anything, Mystique left him literally with the kid. After dumping him off somewhere in a German orphanage, all he could think about was how much he wanted to rip the scaly bitch's arms off. Go figure that now he found her, he can't touch her either. Thank goodness Wolverine was somewhere nearby; he needed to rip something apart.

Looking through the binoculars, he spied upon the school with animal patience. He just needed one little lead. He could smell Wolverine, but the wind was too weak to get the real scent he needed to find him. His biggest chance was through one of the weaklings at the school. If that Alchemist kid had been close enough to get Wolverine's smell, surely someone else has as well. Meaning, Wolverine was chummy with a couple of kids. That would certainly be good leverage to piss the runt off.

For now though, he kept watch. Like a lion choosing the right gnu to chase, he waited.

* * *

><p><em>A few hours later…<em>

Jason dug through his lockers as he switched out his books for the next conglomerate of classes. He had finished his lunch early and had made a beeline for his locker. For the past few weeks, he had swallowed his lunch quickly and made for his locker with usually fifteen minutes to spare to get to class. The main reason was that sooner or later, Jean-Paul came over and would talk to Piotr. Instantly remembering how much he slandered Jean-Paul, Jason chickened out and took off from the table with a rather poor excuse.

Deep down he knew he needed to talk to Jean-Paul. It had been about a month since that harrowing day in the cave, but the memory was as fresh as it was that day. Running his fingers through the y-shaped scar on the right side of his face, he contemplated just what scars he created that day on Jean-Paul's heart. As the rehearsals intensified, he had found himself being around Jean-Paul more and more, and the awkward atmosphere was fairly obvious among the others at the rehearsals. Even at one point, MR. Young even pulled both of them aside and asked if something was wrong. Both Jason and Jean-Paul had quickly denied that there was anything going on, much to each other's surprise. In the end, Mr. Young merely stated that whatever was going on, they needed to leave it off-stage so they could properly rehearse.

Jason shouldered his backpack and shut the locker door, but remained standing where he was as his mind drifted off. Roughly a week ago, he had been talking to his best friend Piotr about this very subject while they enjoyed an evening away from the Institute. Piotr had promised to give Jason Jean-Paul's number so that he could call him and apologize. Several times Jason sat in his room, staring at the phone in his room, and every time he failed to pluck up the heart to call. He just couldn't forgive himself for what he did that day. Why should Jean-Paul forgive him?

"Jason?" came a gentle voice.

Jason looked up and saw Piotr looking at him concernedly. "Oh, hi, Peter."

Piotr put a hand on Jason's shoulder. "What is wrong?"

Jason's shoulder sagged slightly under Piotr's heavy but gentle hand. "Just the same old problems."

Piotr nodded. "I know."

Jason turned around to face Piotr and lean against the lockers, allowing himself to slide down to sit on the floor. "I've tried calling him…many times…but every time I pick up the phone, I just…" Jason cut himself off, and sighed.

Piotr leaned up against the lockers beside Jason and sat down himself. "If it help, I did not talk to Professor yet about my problem."

"I know."

Neither spoke for a few seconds, enjoying the relative quiet that predated the mad rush for classes after lunch. Jason sighed dispiritedly, "Peter?"

"Yes?"

"Is this what it feels like?"

Piotr looked at Jason. "Pardon?"

"Those months before you and I met when you came to the Institute. Did they feel like how I feel right now? Being unable to forgive yourself?"

Piotr didn't move as his mind digested Jason's question, while at the same time his mind remembered those months of lonesome despair, where most of the time he holed himself up in his room and drew pages at a time. It was his only comfort that he gleaned from in that time, but just the same, he was still very sad and constantly blamed himself for everything. Only until he met Jason did he begin to forgive himself. It was a process though; two years of sinful servitude could not simply be absolved with only a few months of penance after all. "Yes…it feel like that."

Jason laughed quietly, the kind of laughter that depicted emotional torture and preceded tears. "We're just two pathetic examples of the human race, aren't we? We can't even forgive ourselves when others will forgive us, and we just find new ways to hold onto our grief no matter what consolation we receive. Just what do we have to do to break this stupid cycle of grief?"

Piotr sighed himself, when suddenly he remembered months ago what Jason himself had said to him. _"__Perhaps you don't know because there's no one else but one person who should forgive you: __yourself."_ Piotr looked at Jason. "We move forward."

Jason looked at Piotr with a strange look on his face.

Piotr slowly climbed to his feet. "Remember what you say back in hospital? Only one person blame you, and that is you. We do our best and forgive ourself. You make mistake, _da_? You should apologize, _da_? But you need to forgive yourself as well, _da_? But you cannot forgive yourself if you do not move forward." Piotr offered a hand. "I can help?"

Jason sat staring for a long time at Piotr. Despite Piotr's bad English, the meaning was clear as diamond. His mind flashed to that fateful day in April when Piotr and he had talked about Piotr's past and how Jason had dragged Piotr out of the depths of despair on that day almost singlehandedly. And now here they were in a similar situation, only this time Piotr was the one dragging Jason out. Granted, the situation wasn't as extreme as it seemed, but it was just as devastating.

Jason finally took Piotr's hand. Piotr hoisted Jason to his feet effortlessly, but he accidentally pulled a little too hard and Jason sprawled forwards. Thinking quickly, Piotr caught Jason in one arm while getting him back on his feet with his other. "I-I am sorry!"

Jason got his feet back under him. "It's okay, no harm done." Jason shook out his head. "Man, I forget sometimes how strong you really are…" Jason looked up at Piotr.

For the briefest of moments, they merely looked at each other in silence as their respective brains froze. Jason finally cleared his throat as Piotr let go, blinking. Jason said, "Hey, thanks, Peter. I needed that." Jason smiled a bit. "Guess that really does make us even now."

Piotr smiled himself, recomposing himself. "You are welcome, Jason. "

Jason smiled, when his brain began to reconstruct what just happened mere moments ago, but was coming up completely empty. Scratching his head, Jason glanced at Piotr and finally said. "Now…what happened just now?"

Piotr looked at Jason. He had been thinking about the very same thing, but he too was coming up empty. However, he was too confused to expound on it. "Uh…what?"

Jason's brow sank unevenly over his eyes. "You know…that…thing that happened."

Piotr blinked. "We…just looked at each other."

"Well…yeah, but…" Jason cut himself off as his brain was rushing too fast for his mouth to catch up. Even then, he wasn't even sure what he was talking about. Feeling like a complete idiot, he just said, "You know what, never mind. We got class in a few minutes and I'd rather not make an ass out of myself before World History. Maybe we should just pretend it never happened."

Piotr nodded confusedly. "All right."

* * *

><p>At around the same time, Bobby was playing with some of the more intricate features of his camera. The one in particular he was messing with now was the zoom feature. Finding a window on the second floor, he began taping the view the window shared and testing the limits of the zoom. He scoped the cityscape of Bayville, admiring how clear things were looking on the display screen. Hoping they would be even clearer on his computer when he uploaded the feed, he continued to scan. "Man, this camera is the best thing to come my way since frosty nights!" Slowly turning, he took in the panoramic view of Bayville with great care. Suddenly, he saw something. "Whoa, I can even see the Institute from here!" Zooming in, he could see the Institute grounds, clearly. As he watched, he noticed someone pull up to the gates on a motorcycle. On the display screen it looked like a little dot; no way could he tell who it was. Looking over his camera quickly, he espied the alternate viewfinder on the camera. Peering through it, the image blew itself up to more discernible sizes allowing him to see things in more detail. Smiling, he saw who the visitor was. "Heh, hello there, Logan!"<p>

"Bobby!"

Bobby yelped at the voice, instantly turning his free hand into an icy fist to give the jerk a frigid punch. Looking, he saw Kurt hanging out the window, hanging only by one hand. Relaxing, Bobby said. "Kurt, were you trying to get a face full of ice?!"

"Sorry, Bobby," Kurt said, suddenly turning into his blue, furry version and back to his default holographic version.

Bobby noticed. "What's going on?"

"Inducer's dying! I have to hightail it back to the Institute before anyone sees me! That means missing Shop Class."

Bobby lowered his camera. "Why can't you just find Jason and ask him to fix it like last time?"

"Sure, Bobby, and show the world that I can flash between blue and fuzzy to normal," Kurt said sarcastically. "Besides, Jason can't fix this. It's a glitch and he doesn't know how to program this thing. I need to get back to the Professor or Mr. McCoy to fix it."

"Ok fine," Bobby said. "Hey, I can film it for you so you won't miss anything!"

Kurt smiled, changing back into his furry form again. "Thank you! Well, I'm off!" With that, he teleported away in a cloud of brimstone.

Bobby stepped back to avoid the fumes. "Man, I wonder if he knows just how much of that crap he leaves behind."

* * *

><p>From his perch on the water tower, Sabretooth had watched the school with an eagle's eye and had noticed a somewhat scrawny boy scoping the town through the second story window using a camcorder. Moreover, there was what appeared to be a blue squirrely thing that seemed to converse with said boy and then disappear in smoke.<p>

So, the blue fuzzball was a mutant, and if he was acting so chummy with that scrawny kid, the kid might be one too. Sabretooth knew that in a place where everyone hated mutants, mutants would likely keep close. In this place, there couldn't have been all that many mutants so there was most likely no more than one spot for them all to hole up. More than likely, these kids were chummy with that Alchemist kid. Sabretooth remembered that it was because of Alchemist was how he found Wolverine the first time.

Sabretooth had the smallest of hunches that camcorder kid might have at least espied something of interest to him. That was reason enough for him to pursue, blue bitch be damned.

* * *

><p>Jason washed his hands in the bathroom while his mind began to work just what he needed to do in the next couple of days. It was Thursday now, and he had enough work to last him a week. The thing is that everything was going to happen in a period barely longer than a day. Beyond school and training exercises, he had the school musical tomorrow night. God knew how many butterflies in were fluttering about in his stomach. Thank goodness he was able to convince Dr. Strange to postpone his next alchemy exercise until Monday.<p>

The door opened in the bathroom without him really hearing it as he continued to look in the mirror. As he did, he began to wonder just how often he looked into the mirror as if it had the answers to have any questions burning in his mind. He recalled that it seemed to be a favorite dramatic scene for movie-makers, and he was beginning to see why. Sometimes it did help to see one's own face think as it did.

Before he realized it, his head smashed through the mirror. His head barely had time to recover when someone spun him around and kicked him right in the stomach. Groaning and coughing, he slid to the floor, blinking as his senses raced to catch up. They needn't have bothered.

"Call that a little warm-up for what I'm going to do with you, Alchemist," Jason's attacker spat.

Jason knew that voice. "Pietro."

"Hmm," Pietro thought out loud. "I guess I didn't hit your head hard enough that time. I'll have to try harder next time."

Jason was initially surprised that Pietro was free as a bird as it were, but then he remembered to whom he was related. "Let me guess; your old man put in a good word about your sterling behavior."

Pietro didn't answer the unasked question. "You, that coward Rasputin and that insect in tights are going to pay for what you did for me."

Jason's eyes narrowed despite the killer headache he was getting. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but I have this hunch that you can't seriously hurt me because it would put a major damper on a certain magnetic-happy mutant's goal for world domination. In addition, if you or anyone else even tried, he'd come up with the most simple yet awful punishment to inflict upon you. Wouldn't that terrify you?"

Pietro was absolutely livid. "You think that you could just say something and scare me? I'll show you who you're messing with!" Pietro threw back a fist for a hell of a punch.

"Stop it!" came a voice.

Both looked to see that someone had just entered in, and his ice-blue eyes seemed to glow in fury at Pietro.

Jason recognized the man immediately. "Jean-Paul?"

Pietro didn't seem to care who it is. "Who died and made you the principal?"

"No one," said Jean-Paul. "But I don't need to be a principal to tell you to get out of here_, vous fils du pute_."

Even though Pietro was not fluent in French, he could guess Jean-Paul said something insulting. "You little fairy, do you know who you are dealing with?"

Jean-Paul was not intimidated. "I don't have to. Now get out of here before you find out the next person you will see _is_ Principal Darkhölme."

Pietro's face turned red, wanting to smash a lightning-fast fist into either one of these two's faces. However, he knew deep down that neither Mystique nor his father would be gracious to him if he screwed anything up here. His father was mad enough for having to break him out of jail a week ago. Growling, he marched by Jean-Paul, shoving him with his shoulder. "Get out of my way!"

Both watched Pietro slam the door shut, leaving both of them alone. Jean-Paul sighed as he relaxed, and then looked down at Jason. Jason had worked himself to a sitting position as he nursed the cuts on his face. Jean-Paul leaned down and faced Jason. "It's strange how we keep running into each other, Jason. People just might start talking."

Jason didn't say anything, but a remorseful look in his uncovered eye said everything.

Jean-Paul took out a handkerchief. "At least let me clean you up. Mr. Young is going to be upset if he sees you all scratched up for dress rehearsal tonight."

Jason suddenly grabbed Jean-Paul's wrist and pulled it away from his face. "Will you quit it?"

Jean-Paul was a little taken aback. "Quit what?"

"Pretending like nothing happened!" Jason said, his face turning even more remorseful. "You can't just bullshit me by pretending I didn't hurt you, because I know I did! I saw it on your face, Jean-Paul. That face has haunted me for nearly a whole month, man, and it's my fault! So, stop pretending and get it over with!"

Jean-Paul blinked. "Get what over with?"

"It! You yelling at me, telling me how much of a stupid homophobic idiot I am! Anything! Just tell me how much I hurt you and make me feel so goddamn terrible because I deserve it! Just say it!" Jason cried out.

Jean-Paul merely stared incredulously at Jason for several seconds, unable to believe what he just heard. Suddenly, he started laughing.

That flabbergasted Jason. "W-what?! What are you laughing at?!"

"You!" Jean-Paul said. "You keep telling me you want me to do all those things to you when you already did them to yourself? I-I find it so funny!"

Jason could only stare; it just didn't make any sense.

Jean-Paul wiped his eyes. "Tell me, have you been kicking yourself this much for the last month?"

Jason was still so stunned by Jean-Paul's reaction that he couldn't talk.

Jean-Paul said. "I'll take that as a yes. So, is that what you want then: you want me to tell you what I think of you?"

Jason finally relaxed enough to answer. "Yes…I deserve whatever you have to say to me. So…get on with it."

Jean-Paul sighed and shook his head. "Well, you _are_ an idiot. And while you're right, I was really hurt by what you said…but I should have taken your feelings more seriously. You had a lot on your mind and I was not helping by pestering you."

Jason protested, "Hey, you weren't—" but he was cut off by Jean-Paul stuffing the handkerchief over his mouth.

"Stuff it, Jason. You asked for it, and now you're getting it." Removing the handkerchief, he continued. "I've been told by a lot of people that I do get into other people's business a little too much. _Merde_, it's amazing that Piotr in art class hasn't said anything." Here, Jean-Paul paused. "In fact, it's kind of thanks to him that I'm not as mad at you as you think I should be."

Jason looked perplexed. "Ok, you're going to have to explain that one."

"Piotr and I talk a lot, as you can imagine. Anyway, there was one time I asked him about his family and something about him changed. He didn't say anything at all, but I knew it was as private as private gets as soon as I said it. At once, I changed the subject. He was grateful, and it got me thinking about how you were acting when you didn't want to talk about anything. While the ways you and he acted were very different, they were also so alike. The difference really is, I prodded you. I didn't to him. There was just something in his eyes that just told me that it was something so terrible that I really shouldn't have asked. I don't know if it was because I didn't want him getting angry like how you did. Anyway, it got me thinking how inconsiderate I was really being with you. You were right about one thing: there are boundaries no one should ever cross, and I crossed yours. And for that, I should say I'm sorry."

Jason felt like someone punched him in the gut. For the last month, he had been agonizing on how to apologize for his transgressions to Jean-Paul, but here he was, _receiving_ an apology? What kind of joke was God playing here?

Jean-Paul smiled. "Not exactly what you had in mind?"

Jason exhaled, confused. "I-I just don't get it. I was the one who treated you like pond scum and _you're_ the one apologizing?" Jason shut his eyes tightly. "Jean-Paul, I'm the jackass here. You were just trying to be friendly, like you always are, and I was the one being a perfect jerk. And to top it all off, I called you a—" Jason cut himself off; he didn't want to say it again. "And then I saw the look on your face. I didn't want you crossing my boundaries, but I completely destroyed yours. What kind of a self-righteous jerk does that to someone? I wouldn't even be surprised if you never wanted to see my face again."

Jean-Paul cut in. "But…?"

Jason blinked. "And I can't help but wonder how lucky a jerk is when something like this happens."

Jean-Paul smiled. "Pretty lucky, I guess."

"Yeah, he would be." Jason lowered his head. "Dear god, Jean-Paul. I'm so sorry…I'm so sorry…" Jason wiped his eyes with the back of his hand.

Jean-Paul said, handing Jason the handkerchief. "Oh, don't cry. You're going to start making me feel bad too."

Jason laughed at that, but his eyes still burned. Wiping his eyes with the handkerchief, he coughed a bit. "Well, I guess the next question is obvious."

"Where do we go from here?"

Jason smiled; that was the question all right.

Jean-Paul stood up, offering a hand to help Jason up. Jason took it and clambered to his feet. Jean-Paul said, "Well, I don't know about you, but I know I better get going to my next class, and you should probably do the same."

Jason nodded. "Good point." Sighing, he said. "I really do mean it, Jean-Paul. I shouldn't have screamed at you like that and called you names."

Jean-Paul nodded. "Well, I meant what I said as well. You have your scars and so does Piotr, and I shouldn't pry if I'm not invited."

Jason looked away briefly. The reasons why neither Piotr nor he had shared their secrets with anyone were bilateral: they involved mutantkind as well as devastation. It was privileged information to say the very least. Still, they were able to open up about some things to their peers. Who's to say the list won't grow? "Well…maybe one day…you'll get to that kind of trust with us. Truth be told, at the Institute we stay at, most there don't even know what plagues us. I'll have to tell you about what happened when Hurricane Irene hit this place when the time is right."

Jean-Paul made a face. "Well, knowing you and your love for the weather, it should be quite the story."

Jason playfully shoved Jean-Paul. "Oh, shut up."

By then, they had exited the bathroom and were about to separate for classes. Jason had only taken a few steps when he remembered. "Wait, Jean-Paul!" He held up the handkerchief.

Jean-Paul turned around and smiled. "Keep it; you need it better than I do."

Jason let his arm fall. "Now who's the jerk?"

Jean-Paul turned and walked off. "_Au revoir!_"

Jason shook his head and grinned, before turning to leave himself as he tucked the handkerchief into his pocket. _"I guess Peter was right again about something. If he keeps it up, I'm going to wind up owing him."_

* * *

><p>When the bell told that school had concluded for the day, it wasn't long for the students inside to clamber for the exits. Among the first to come out was Bobby Drake, now geared up and bearing a skateboard. Checking the camcorder, he smiled as he boarded his skateboard. "And now, a skater's eye view of the coolest guy on the campus," he said softly to himself.<p>

Without further ado, he pumped one leg off the pavement, shooting him forwards; bystanders quickly scattered noisily as he breezed past. Despite the chill of the late fall air, there was something rejuvenating about boarding down the sidewalks as the crisp air ripped at one's face but not tearing at it. He guessed this rush would certainly not be good extra credit homework material, but it still might look cool.

Had Bobby been looking up at all, he might have noticed he had a shadow that the sun or any other light was not casting. Perched on top of the school, Sabretooth scanned each person as they passed underneath him. As much as he loved causing mayhem among weaker species, he had to suppress his feral bloodlust for his self-imposed mission was far more interesting. His eyes followed the skateboarding youth; this was the one he spotted with the camcorder, and there he was holding it up for the world to see. That made his job easier.

Sabretooth was off at once, leaping from rooftop to rooftop, running on all fours across the frigid rooftops. He kept to the opposite side of the street to keep a better eye as well as to avoid notice. The skater was too occupied with the camcorder to even look around. This was going to be too easy.

A semi-truck began driving down the street between Sabretooth and his target. He didn't hesitate; leaping out he landed right on the freight trailer of the truck and immediately pounced upon Bobby. In one move, Sabretooth snatched the camera from Bobby's hand, and shoved Bobby right into the nearby alley. He ran down the sidewalk until he came to a set of stairs that led into another alley. Leaping down, he hunkered down underneath the stairwell and immediately examined the camera. He needed to be quick; the kid he shoved off would surely come back and wouldn't be happy. While he was certainly no threat, he needed to be gone before the kid had any chance of tipping off the runt if his hunch was right.

Pressing rewind on the camera, he looked closely as the footage raced by in front of his eyes. One piqued his interest as it showed the view of Bayville. Narrowing his eyes, he pressed play and watched. Apparently, this kid was checking out the view of Bayville from his window. Sabretooth recalled the time he was waiting on the water tower and saw a kid doing that. Suddenly, the kid said something about the Institute and zoomed in on a mansion on the edge of town, high up on a hill overlooking the bay and the town. Just then, something came to the gates of the mansion on a motorcycle.

"_Heh, hello there Logan!" _said the voice on the recording.

Sabretooth's eyes bulged in recognition, both at the footage and at the name. There he was: the runt was denning at this mansion just outside of town. Sabretooth grinned savagely as he licked his teeth hungrily. Finally…

Meanwhile, Bobby picked himself up gingerly from a pile of garbage and knocked-over cans. For a quick second, he wasn't sure what just happened to him, when he suddenly realized the camera was gone from his hand. His eyes flashed open in remembrance, and then in anger. Icing over his fist, he looked back the way he came. "That punk just messed with the wrong guy!" Scooping up his skateboard, he ran for the street, swearing frozen fury when he saw the jerk who took the camera. Shooting out of the alley, he ran down the street until he came to the stairwell and looked down.

"What?" Bobby said in surprise. Right there at the foot of the stairs was the camera, just sitting there as if it nothing happened. Bobby climbed down the stairs, his anger quickly replaced with outright confusion. Picking up the camera, he stared at it as his mind tried and failed to come up with a logical reason why some hobo knocked him over, took his camera, and then just left it behind less than a hundred feet away from where it happened.

"What's up with this? So, he just knocked me over for no reason?" Opening the viewscreen, he could see no damage to the camera itself. There were no scratched outside of it either. The guy didn't even toss it aside; he placed it as if he wanted it to be found. Quickly on alert, Bobby looked around, but there was no sign of the jerk again. "This is just too weird…"

"Yo, Drake!"

Bobby grimaced in sheer reflex at that medium voice with the hint of a squeak in it. Looking back at the top of the stairwell, he saw the source of the annoyance. "What do you want, Tolanski?"

"Heard about your movie thing!" Todd grabbed a hold of the guard rail and hoisted himself up into a one-handed handstand. "So, check me out."

Bobby rolled his eyes. "Get real, Toady."

Todd didn't seem to hear Bobby. "I got style, charisma _and_ the wow factor!" With a heave, he leaped upwards, twisting around to land on the wall of a nearby apartment building. Again, he leaped off, twisting around, landing perfectly back on the guard rail of the stairwell, gliding down it. "All in one little awesome pack—WHOA!" His foot caught at the very end of the stairwell, sending him sprawling to the ground.

Not missing a beat, he threw himself back on his feet. "Meant to do that," he muttered. "So, what are you waiting for, Drake? Start shooting already!"

Bobby, who had not graced Todd with a second glance, merely climbed back on his skateboard as said. "Take a hike, Toad. I have far too high standards for my audience for that." With that, Bobby left a flabbergasted Toad behind him in the dust. "Well, that's one problem off my back. I think I'm done with the town shots; time to get back and find some _real_ action."

* * *

><p><em>Xavier Institute for Gifted Children – 4:23 PM, the same day<em>

Outside on the grounds, Wolverine and Cyclops were gearing up for a one-on-one session. While training sessions were typically ran inside the Danger Room, occasionally there was a session outside on the grounds, typically if it was just one or two actually participating at any given time. Wolverine worked on the computer at the starting line while Cyclops adjusted his red-quartz visor. The latter had been working on a wireless interface that allowed him to fire his optic blasts without having to reach for the shutter in his visor. If he did it right, all he had to do was squeeze a hidden button on his wrist communicator and it would allow him to fire. Initial tests shown promise, and now he was going to test it in a combat simulation to see if it could keep up with his reflexes.

"You ready, Slim?" Wolverine growled.

Cyclops fingered his visor. "Ready."

Wolverine typed a few keys on the computer. "Field Training Battle Sim-Seven. Activate."

The computer acknowledged the command input. In response, many panels along the course slip open, and several threatening gadgets rose up and took aim at the two. The computer began counting down from five as the two lined up. The clock hit zero and the two were off. Neither got two steps when several cannons fired hard rubber balls at them. The first ones were easy to dodge, but the cannons increased the rate in fire. Cyclops barely dodged one before another came right towards his face. Instantly, he fired a blast, destroying it.

Wolverine barely dodged one and slashed the next with his claws when a cannon rose up and fired a net at Wolverine's back. Cyclops, who fell behind, immediately saw the danger. With a quick twitch of the wrist, he fired a blast that disintegrated the net before it got within five feet of Wolverine.

Up ahead, more cannons rose up and fired balls in threes. Wolverine's claws were blurs as he sliced all three in a crisscrossing slash. Cyclops saw a trio fly his way and he opened his visor wide to fire a wide-angle beam; the balls stood no chance.

Both were so occupied by the training exercise that they didn't notice a spectator on the field. Bobby Drake had spotted the exercise from afar and raced over to capture some high-octane action, so he put it. Icing along behind, he captured every moment he could with his camcorder.

Meanwhile, Cyclops fired his blasts rapidly as the projectiles grew thick and fast, but he had fallen behind Wolverine severely. If he was going to pass this exercise, he needed to move and now. He ran only three steps when fate decreed a bolas shot from behind to ensnare Cyclops' legs. Its mark was true and Cyclops found himself sprawling to the ground. Sitting himself up, he was about to fire an optic blast at his binds when something breezed past him. Looking up, he espied Drake on a skateboard. "Drake! What the hell are you doing?!"

Bobby however was so enamored by his filming that he didn't hear Cyclops at all. Wolverine did. Looking behind him, he noticed the oblivious filmmaker right away. Before he could anything, a turret rose out of the ground, bearing three ominous long slots. Loading three katana-sharp buzz saw blades, it took aim…at Bobby. The sound of the turret attracted Wolverine's attention; at once, he saw the danger.

Spinning around, he ran for Bobby just as the turret fired. "Look out!" he shouted.

Bobby was still so distracted by filming that the warning barely even registered. Hearing a noise, he turned to see what was going on. The viewfinder on his camera showed Wolverine running for him, as well as a trio of spinning blades. His eyes barely had time to bulge before Wolverine decked him. Before Bobby hit the ground, Wolverine slashed back around with his claws, parrying the blades with lightning quick swipes. Adamantium claws cleave through steel like butter, and the saws were no exception as they harmlessly flew by, clattering to the ground.

Bobby sat stunned at what just happened, but only for a moment. Logan grabbed Bobby and yanked him to his feet aggressively. "What the hell was that, bub? You were this close to having your stupid head cut right off!"

Despite Bobby having a good five inches on Logan, Bobby felt small enough to lick Logan's boots. Unconsciously fondling the camcorder in his hands, he stammered, "I-I was just—well—uh—"

Logan at once spotted the camcorder. "And just what is this?" With one swift swipe, he snatched the camcorder out of Bobby's hands.

"Hey, give that back!" Bobby protested.

Without the slightest hesitation, Logan pressed the delete button.

Bobby felt like two of his heartbeats had been deleted. "Why did you do that?"

Logan shot Bobby a look that could crack Plexiglas. "Let's just say you got on my bad side, Frosty," he growled. "Now I have four Danger Room sessions with your name on them, so just try to keep talking." Logan refocused his attention on the camera. "If I find something else on here I don't like, you're grounded for life."

Bobby bit his tongue as a retort quickly formed in the back of his mind, not noticed Scott coming to join them after freeing himself from the bolo. Defeated, all he could do was wait.

Logan glanced through parts of the stored footage for anything else sensitive. Most everything was harmless…until one clip surfaced.

"_Thanks for the tip, kid,"_ said a feral-looking man. _"I owe ya…" _

Logan's eyes narrowed fiercely as he saw the face and heard the voice of his long-time nemesis. Nearby, Bobby had seen the footage over Logan's shoulder. Stammering, he hastily said. "Uh…I-I didn't film that."

Logan handed the camera back to Bobby. "I know, Frosty."

"Who the heck was that anyway?" Bobby asked.

"Sabretooth," Logan replied.

Something in Bobby's mind clicked. "The guy that attacked Jason and Peter?"

"The same guy," Scott said, having also saw the footage. "He's got old issues with Logan, but that's not the worst part. Something in your camera clued him in on Logan's whereabouts…_our_ whereabouts."

Alarms began blaring like on cue all around the grounds. None there needed to guess what it was. Logan spun around to the direction of the sirens. "You think?" Logan growled, his claws shooting out. "Keep everyone inside, Slim! I got this." Without another word, Logan took off for the front gates.

"You heard him, Bobby. Get inside and stay there!"

Bobby complied, feeling like a complete heel. Meanwhile, Scott warred with the orders Logan gave and his gut instinct to help. Last time, Jason and Piotr both held Sabretooth at bay while Logan healed. Logan would never admit it, but he might need backup.

One second later, Scott ran for the front gate.

* * *

><p>Sabretooth was never one for subtlety, so ripping the bars off the front gates held no qualms for him. Grasping the gates firmly, he pulled them apart as if they were made of paper. Alarms heralded his presence as he stormed onto the Institute grounds. Turrets rose to greet the savage with concussive blasts. Sabretooth evaded each blast with feline grace and swiftly punished each turret. "Come out, come out, Wolverine!" he screamed.<p>

_Snikt! _

Sabretooth spun around in time to see the short but stout Wolverine come running up to him, snarling. Sabretooth roared savagely and charged. Wolverine swiped at Sabretooth's vitals, but the latter slapped it aside, striking out with a clawed strike at Wolverine's head. Wolverine flipped around, striking Sabretooth in the chin with a kick. As the wild man stumbled back, adamantium claws slashed open his torso twice over. Roaring in pain and fury, Sabretooth swiped back, slashing Wolverine's face to shreds.

Both separated as their respective wounds healed quickly. Sabretooth growled, "Not bad, runt, but not good enough!"

"I'm just warming up, you son of a bitch," Wolverine snarled.

As both circled around each other, poised for another round, Wolverine heard a voice in his head. _"Logan, what is Sabretooth doing here? I thought you prevented him from finding you here."_ It was Professor Xavier. Wolverine replied in thought. _"I did last time, Chuck…but _this_ time, he had _help_."_

"_I've sent the rest of the team to assist. Get him off the grounds, now!"_

"_Keep them back, Chuck! I got—"_

A crimson blast shot through the air, smashing into Sabretooth and knocking him off his feet. Wolverine followed the blast to its source.

Cyclops replied. "You heard the Professor."

Wolverine snarled, just as Sabretooth picked himself up, saying, "Fine, you can just sit there and be the next after I finally finish things with the runt."

Wolverine shot Sabretooth a look that could melt glass. "Over my dead body, Creed!"

Sabretooth laughed. "That's the plan!"

Once again, the two clashed like hammer and tongs. Cyclops gritted his teeth as he tried to lock on to Sabretooth, but Wolverine was too close to him. He'd blast both or just Wolverine by mistake.

Suddenly, a lightning bolt shot from the sky, striking Sabretooth squarely in the forehead. Wolverine was knocked off his feet by the shockwave as the superheated air clapped against him like rock. Sabretooth picked himself up as the burn healed quickly. Cyclops and Wolverine looked behind him to see Storm, Jean, Nightcrawler and Colossus coming up to them.

Wolverine bounded back to his feet. "Stay back! He's mine!" Snarling, he leaped at the still-recovering Sabretooth, plunging both claws into the latter's lungs. Roaring fiercely, Sabretooth kicked Wolverine off of him and bounded to his feet.

"No!" commanded Storm. "This is no place for your blood feud!" Storm summoned another bolt of lightning to strike Sabretooth in the chest.

Sabretooth felt a hundred megavolts strike him in the chest, but forced himself to keep moving towards Wolverine. He'd be damned if he'd let some witch keep him from Wolverine. The winds picked up to a hundred knots but he planted his feet down, bracing himself even as the wind tore at him. Inch by inch, he was getting closer to Wolverine who braced himself.

Then, a blast from the punk with the red visor struck Sabretooth right in the mouth, sending him flying. Sabretooth picked himself back up and advanced again, undeterred. Out of nowhere, a stone bench flew up and smashed into Sabretooth, shattering to pieces. Sabretooth was seeing red as he saw the red-haired girl pick up a nearby lawn statue with unseen force, readying it.

"Enough!" Storm said firmly. "Begone, Sabretooth!" Whipping her hands around, she summoned her strongest lightning bolts to strike. "Now!"

Cyclops blasted with his optic beams just as Jean hurled the bust. Colossus buried his hands into the ground and glared at Sabretooth. "And never come back, _sobaka_!" With a mighty heave, he pulled the earth at his feet, and then snap it like a wet towel. The wave of earth slammed into Sabretooth and bounced him to a rolling stop.

Sabretooth gasped ferally. Bloodied, bruised and singed, his savage glare found Wolverine's gaze. "THIS ISN'T OVER, LOGAN!" His wounds still healing, he jumped to his feet and dashed for the gates.

Wolverine's eyes bulged, and then he was off after him, despite Storm's protests. He needed to get rid of Sabretooth now, or else he'd be right back. They didn't understand; Sabretooth needed to be put down for their own good. The chase led Wolverine through a wooded area near the grounds, thick and untended. Slashing the flora out of his face, he kept after Sabretooth like the hound to the fox.

After several minutes, Wolverine came upon a creek, an image of peace despite the purpose of he who stood near its banks. Wolverine snarled, sniffing quickly for any scent of his nemesis, but there was none. The footprints on the ground confirmed his suspicions: Sabretooth took to the creek to wash the scent and footprints away.

Wolverine screamed savagely; Sabretooth had gotten away.

* * *

><p><em>Xavier Institute for Gifted Children – 4:40 PM<em>

Back at the grounds, those that remained were busy cleaning up the grounds from the onslaught mere minutes ago. Logan had sullenly returned, but no one spoke to him. There was nothing needed to be said; all could tell that Logan was in a foul mood so all remained silent as he passed by, bound for the mansion.

That was five minutes prior. Now the Professor and Logan were now in the Cerebro room, scanning the area for Sabretooth. As soon as Sabretooth stormed off the grounds, the Professor tried to keep tabs on him via Cerebro, but the trail was cold as soon as he arrived. The Professor said as much to Logan.

"Don't give me that, Chuck!" Logan snapped. "You could find anyone in this goddamn city without so much as a sneeze!"

The Professor sighed patiently. "Logan, Cerebro tracks mutant abilities. Currently, I can't trace Sabretooth's healing powers if there is nothing to heal right now. The trail was cold as soon as I came here. I'm sorry…"

Logan growled resignedly. "Fine, you can't find him. Now we got real problems."

The Professor folded his hands together. "Yes. Sabretooth knows our whereabouts."

"Thanks to the Ice Cube no less."

"Mr. Drake's misjudgment was the catalyst the brought him here, yes, but I fear this was inevitable. Sooner or later, Sabretooth would have found you here, despite your best efforts."

"Doesn't change anything. I don't need to tell you how much of a pain in the ass he's going to be."

"Would he try to attack you here again?"

Logan shook his head. "No, that's the problem. He'll want to draw me away from here, get me all alone. He knows he'll just get his ass kicked here again, so he'll try to lure me out."

The Professor considered this information, and came to a startling conclusion. "You mean he would use a hostage?"

"Wouldn't put it past him," Logan replied plainly.

The Professor looked severely concerned. "Then the students are in great danger."

"And that's why I need to find Creed and get rid of him…permanently."

The Professor looked up at Logan. On one hand, he abhorred taking life, but even he knew that sometimes one must do something extreme for the greater good. He learned that lesson the hard way. "Very well. The students will remain here on the grounds until further notice."

Logan nodded, and then wordlessly left.

* * *

><p>Had Logan left a few moments prior, he might have caught Bobby Drake eavesdropping on the conversation just outside the Cerebro room. Having heard what he needed to hear, he retreated back upstairs a sullen mutant. Now back in his room, he sat on his bed, looking at the camera in his hand disdainfully as if all what happened today was its fault. "You see what trouble you caused?" he said. He knew deep down that it was his sudden craving for photoengraving that spurred this mess, not the camera itself.<p>

Plopping down on the bed, he bemoaned. "If only there was a way to clean up this whole mess…"

His aimless thoughts provided no answers or solutions to his quandary as his usually quiet responsible side began reprimanding him for not taking responsibility for jeopardizing the safety of the Institute. But what could he do? He had heard stories of Sabretooth, and had watched the brawl from insides with everyone else. What could he do, freeze him to death? He heard how Jason blew his face right off and Sabretooth walked it right off.

Panic punched Bobby in the stomach like it came from Colossus. Jason! He wasn't here at the Institute! Neither were Rogue and Kitty! Bolting out of bed, his mind raced to remember where they were. Sabretooth was out there and he needed to warn them! He remembered the camera in his hands and turned it on, combing through the stored data as fast as he could, willing it to go faster.

Finally, he reached the clip he was looking for. Hastily, he pressed play.

"_You've been hogging it for the last week and I need it to practice!"_

"_Like I said, get your own!"_

_Jason felt a muscle in his temple twitch as his patience ran thin. "Kitty! Rogue!" he barked. "Again?"_

"_Yes, again!" Kitty exclaimed. "Rogue can't get the point!"_

_Rogue was fuming. "Listen here, you little—"_

"_Girls, both are you are pretty!" Jason snapped sarcastically. After getting mutual glares from both Rogue and Kitty, he continued angrily. "Now that I have your attention, I would like to present a solution to this debacle, if you don't mind."_

_Rogue crossed her arms, "Ok, fine. What did you have in mind?"_

"_To be honest, I'm surprised neither of you came up with this: why don't we all practice together after school? Most of the numbers you two practice to I share as well, even the ones without the ensemble. We can go to the old half-shell theater in the park; should be plenty of dancing room there." Jason's eyes narrowed. "Was that so hard?"_

_Rogue looked indignant, but was interrupted by Kitty. "Like lose the attitude, buster!"_

Bobby pressed pause as soon as the location registered: the old theater at the park. That wasn't far from here as the crow flies, and he hoped that crow wasn't Sabretooth. Jumping out of bed, he put his skateboarding gear on as fast as he could, scooped up his skateboard and bolted for the door. Reaching it, he stopped as soon as he grasped the doorknob. He remembered what the Professor had said about locking down the Institute in event of another Sabretooth attack. He knew that as soon as he tried to leave through the front door, he would be stopped…by Wolverine of all people.

Cursing mentally, he thought wildly about how he had to get out…and automatically looked to the window. Reason berated the very idea of leaping out of a second-story window, but his gut said that he could do it. Besides, he was the Iceman. He could create his own winter wonderland on request. What's a little pile of snow?

Not hesitating—and feeling very thankful his roommate Ray wasn't in the room—he ran for the window and worked it open. Looking down, he threw his hand downwards, showering the ground with clumpy snow piling faster than any blizzard the world could ever come up with. Once satisfied, he threw himself out the window, landing solidly but noiselessly in the snow. Digging himself out, he dusted himself off and took off for the nearest wall. He knew that if went through the front door, an irate Logan would have hauled ass after him and caught him too.

Quickly he encountered the wall and tossed his skateboard over it. Finally, he clambered over it clumsily and took off into the woods, aiming for the roadway at an angle and out of sight of the Institute. As he ran, he could just imagine the amount of punishment he'd be deep in for doing this. Feeling colder than usual inside, he remembered he was already due for some Danger Room sessions as punishment. What could be worse than that? Whatever it was, he knew Logan could come up with.

Had he been paying attention to what was around him, he might have noticed a figure in the bushes peering after him rather predatorily. When Bobby had gone further, the figure looked after him, grinning like a crocodile.

"Well, lookie there. The same kid that helped me along last time, and here he is so eager to help me again." Sabretooth peered back at the Institute. "Logan, you're making this too easy…"

* * *

><p>In the lounge, a group of mildly despondent teenagers were sitting in various furniture trying to amuse themselves after hearing the Institute was under lockdown until further notice. Scott and Jean were sitting on one couch while Tabitha seemed to be melting from sheer boredom in a nearby recliner while the New Mutant boys sans Bobby were watching TV while Piotr drew quietly on his art pad at the table. Tabitha voiced their thoughts for everyone. "This sucks."<p>

Scott pressed his lips together in annoyance. "So we've heard."

Jean finished the thought. "Again…and again."

Tabitha showed no inclination she cared. "Sue me. So what if some big bad boy has some beef with Logan. Doesn't everyone?"

"Those other people aren't the kind of people who liked to rip people's limbs off their bodies," Jean said mildly.

Ray, overhearing the chatter, said. "Yeah, remember what Jason said about him? Jason blew his face up and the guy barely shrugged."

Scott grimaced behind his shades. "Don't remind me." He remembered that day differently; one of the biggest arguments he's had with someone, and with a lucky blood-soaked rookie.

"Where is Jason, anyway?" Tabitha said, looking around.

Jean perked up. "Good question. I haven't seen him since school."

"_Bohze moy_!" Piotr suddenly exclaimed, standing up sharply.

That and the clattering chair Piotr was sitting in drew every eye and ear in the room. "Whoa, what's up?" Scott said.

Tabitha barely batted an eye. "Broke the lead on your pencil again?"

Piotr ignored the flippant remark. "Where is Logan?" he asked, barely restrained panic in his voice.

Scott and Jean looked at each other. "What's the matter?"

Piotr growled in agitation and ran from the room.

That surprised Tabitha. "Whoa, what's up with him?"

"I don't know," Jean said. "But I could feel something terrified him."

"Yeah, I think we all got that idea," Ray quipped.

"Well, whatever it was, I hope he doesn't do something stupid." Scott continued to look down the way Piotr ran, his eyes narrowing slightly.

* * *

><p>Wolverine climbed aboard his motorcycle, all the while sniffing the air for any sign of Sabretooth. He knew enough about the bastard that he would be waiting just outside the gates more than likely. The wind was too weak however to carry any scent far enough from the nearby woods—logically providing the best cover for Sabretooth to hide. If he was in the woods, he could be anywhere, and that was a lot of footwork.<p>

Wolverine revved up his motorcycle loudly as he reached for his helmet. Better make this quick: there wasn't much light left in the day and he needed to find Sabretooth before nightfall. That was the perfect time for Sabretooth to strike again: while everyone was asleep, and considering how well he handled security so far, he could get in no problem however noisily.

"Logan!" came a voice.

His head turned sharply to the source of the voice, seeing the much taller figure of Piotr Rasputin come running towards him. His eyes narrowing, Wolverine growled, "Russkie, what the hell are you doing out here?!"

Piotr stopped short of Wolverine, bending over and panting. "I am…sorry," he gasped before straightening up. "I need tell you something!"

Wolverine sized Piotr up. On one hand, he was annoyed that someone so quickly disregarded any orders to stay inside the Institute; on the other, Piotr was among the most obedient kids here. If he was disobeying orders, he had a damn good reason to. That gave Wolverine a bad feeling. "Make it quick."

Piotr gulped, his short breaths parching his throat. "Jason has not returned to Institute."

Wolverine's eyes bulged. Of all the people that had to be missing… "Where is he?!"

Piotr knew Logan well enough to know when the latter was worried. "City Park, the old theater shell. Rogue and Kitty is with him."

Growling, Wolverine grasps the handles on the motorcycle, forcing the engines to sound his feelings. The mission suddenly grew much more desperate. Wordlessly, he hunched over, ready to take off.

"Wait, I can help!" Piotr offered.

"No!" Wolverine barked automatically. "Stay here and watch over the others with Summers!"

"But—"

Wolverine shot Piotr a savage look. "No!"

Piotr froze where he stood. Despite towering over Wolverine by almost a meter, he lacked the ironclad resolve the shorter wore as his countenance. A small part of him remained defiant however, but he had the prudence to silence it, and thus did he remain so.

Wolverine knew Piotr enough that he was concerned deeply about his best friend, and that was obvious. However, there was no time for assurances, and so wordlessly, he roared away on his motorcycle, leaving a fretting Piotr behind.

* * *

><p>Jason leaned over to breathe, partly from exhaustion and also to hide his annoyance from a bickering Kitty and Rogue. They had been out here for the better part of an hour now, and have made very little progress in smoothing out some of the rough spots in their choreography for one of the musical's numbers. Sometimes Jason wondered if he had bitten off more than he could chew for coming up with the idea, but he'd be damned if he was going to give up now.<p>

Rising back up, he spun around crossly. "For the love of God, stop it! Both of you!"

Rogue and Kitty took a break from their argument to round on Jason. "What do you want?!" they said in unison.

Jason incredulously answered. "Get this number right, maybe?" Jason rubbed the bridge of nose. "Is that too much to ask, really?"

"Well, maybe we could if Miss Party-Goer would slow down…" Rogue said pointedly.

"Oh, like I'm too fast? Try you're too slow! You're like a walking zombie or something!"

"Stop it!" Jason snapped. _"God, I hope Bethany doesn't grow up to be like one of these two, or you can just hang me now!"_ "We don't have a lot of daylight left, so we need to smooth things over—in more ways than one—before we have to head back. Is there any chance we can just concentrate on getting the number right?"

Rogue and Kitty looked at each other, obviously still fuming. Finally, Rogue says, "You seem to know what you're doing, Jason. How about _you_ tell us how to do it then?"

Jason sighed as he crossed his arms. "I'm not going to tell you two what is better and what isn't. I'm just asking that you follow my lead and try to mimic me at the very…" Jason suddenly made a strange look, as if he was just slapped by an idea. "…least."

Kitty noticed. "Uh oh, I totally know that look…"

Jason rose a finger, attempted to ward off unwarranted distractions as his mind raced. He mumbled as his eyes danced around as he dwelled, "Could it—no there's no way that could work…right? Maybe?"

Even Rogue was getting nervous. "Yeah, I got a bad feeling about this."

Jason grimaced slightly, as if the thing he was thinking might hurt him. Sighing, he said. "Well, I have an idea…but it's insane, and I don't think either of you is going to like it…" Raising his voice slightly, he continued. "…and I want to go on record that I wouldn't even suggest this if I didn't feel like as pressured or as tired as I do right now. You can object if you want, and I'll shut up about—"

"Just say it, Jason!" the two girls chorused.

Jason pursed his lips; this was not going to be good for him, he knew it. "Rogue, is there any chance you and Kitty could share a small finger tap so you both have the same exact choreography?"

"What!?" Rogue and Kitty exclaimed, followed by Kitty's outright refusal. "No way!"

Jason could feel his instincts scream to abort the mission, but he pressed on as he raised his hands neutrally. "Just bear with me a sec. Rogue, when you borrowed my powers to fight Blob, you also learned my alchemic knowhow if you will." Hesitatingly, he continued. "This is just a theory, but you might be able to copy Kitty's dancing so you two can sync up." Jason paused, but his eyes spelled the need for thoughts about his idea.

Rogue felt like objecting to the idea herself, but she knew they were getting nowhere fast, and Jason was bending over backwards just trying to get things smoothed out. She felt inclined to feel sorry for Jason, even if he was being rather testy. "Well…" Rogue began slowly. "It might work…"

"Wait," Kitty began. "You're totally serious about this?"

A spasm of incredulous annoyance shot across Jason's face.

"Like you are. Perfect."

"You want to keep dragging this on, Kitty? I want to get this over with and out of here."

Kitty finally sighed. "Ok, but you'd better not lay me out, you know…"

Rogue tried not to look annoyed as she pulled off one of her gloves. "Just concentrate on the steps, ok?"

Jason bit his lips apprehensively as Kitty and Rogue shared the smallest of finger taps. Even with very minimal contact, both winced as Rogue's draining powers worked affectively. He himself knew that feeling all too well. Just as fast as they touched, they parted. Kitty shivered like she caught the cold breezes of early November while Rogue rubbed her forehead as her brain analyzed the newly attained memories. Jason turned to Rogue. "You all right?"

Rogue answered at a slightly higher pitch. "Yeah, oh em gee, that was like…totally icksome." Rogue blanched as if someone slapped her across the face. "Wait, am I talking like her now?" she incredulously asked with her normal Southern drawl.

Jason tried unsuccessfully to pretend what he just witnessed wasn't weird at all. "Okay!" he barked, punctuating it with a clap. "Once more from the top, people!" Jason reached over to the nearby radio to replay the current track. Once it reached their cue, Jason led in an energetic jazzy show of dance, followed almost perfectly by the two ladies behind. Rogue's touch seemed to be just what the doctor ordered as Rogue met each step with near flawless precision. Even as the number and choreography gained energy and speed, all three kept their focused and shot through it as weeks of practice had promised.

Finally, with one last blast from a saxophone, the song ended triumphantly with all three dancers on the ground. Resting briefly, Jason sat back up to prevent the next song from playing. "Well, I'd say that was a vast improvement."

Kitty and Rogue sat up as well. "Never thought I would say that Jason's idea was a good one."

Jason peered at Rogue mischievously. "Law of Averages: has to happen sooner or later." Climbing to his feet, he followed up, "Well, I don't know about you, but I think we're done here. Let's head back so we can at least eat something before we have to do this for another four hours."

"Wait, Jason. What if like Mr. Young asks how Rogue learned to dance so well so fast? What will we say?"

Jason made a strange face as his mind raced for an excuse while weighing the possibility of such a question being asked. "Maybe he won't notice," he managed to say flippantly.

Rogue scoffed. "Yeah, right."

Jason waved a hand dismissively. "It's not going to be a big deal. Hell, he'd probably be happy enough that things are finally going smoothly." Jason shook his head bemusedly. "That one line in the opening song is right: 'one week, will it ever be right'? Let me know if anyone gets that crystal ball working, because I'd love to see how things turn out…along with some other stuff."

"Jason, you said a mouthful," Rogue replied.

"Totally!" Kitty laughed. "Like let's get out of—" Kitty cut herself off as she saw something off in the distance. "Hey, is that like Bobby?"

Jason looked up at Kitty, and then in the direction she was pointing. Groaning, he replied, "Yeah, looks like him. He'd better not come over here asking for some footage from us, or else I might have to kill him."

"If I don't first…" said Rogue ruefully.

In due process of time, Bobby reached the three, nearly out of breath. "Guys…you need to get out of here!"

Upon closer inspection, Jason could see something rattled Bobby. "Bobby, you look like you're going to melt! What the hell's going on?!"

"Sabe…" Bobby breathed. "Saber…"

"Like saber-what?" Kitty asked.

Jason suddenly paled. "Bobby, do you mean Sabretooth?"

As Bobby nodded, a menacing voice growled a ways behind him. "Speak of the devil…and he shall appear."

All turned to face this new presence, and saw Sabretooth crouched on the stone fence that surrounded the shell theater. Jason's eyes flashed in anger. "You just couldn't stay away, could you?"

Sabretooth grinned, revealing his sharp canines. "I figured following the little man would lead me to a chance at getting Wolverine…but I didn't think I would find the little shit that decided to play with me."

Jason's eyes never left Sabretooth, watching him as if he were a mountain lion. "Rogue, Kitty, Bobby, get out of here and find Logan…fast," he whispered.

"What, are you like crazy!?" Kitty exclaimed.

"I can't protect you from him," Jason tried to remain calm. "You attack him, he'll round on you. He wants only me, right now. Don't get in his way."

Rogue crossed her arms. "Jason, there's no way in heck I'm letting you fight this mutt alone."

Sabretooth's eye twitched at the shot. "I'm feeling generous today; all I want is the little alchemist here. He and I have a score to settle."

Jason brought his hands up, gearing for a brawl. "Last chance, guys. I won't think less of you if you guys go now."

Bobby, having been silent all this time, appeared to get his second wind. "I accidentally led him to the Institute. I'm fixing this!"

"Remind me to ask you about that later…" Jason said.

"Like it or not, Jason. You're stuck with us."

Jason still felt uneasy about having so many people who have not fought Sabretooth volunteering so quickly, but he wasn't about to turn away help. "Don't say I didn't warn you…"

Sabretooth didn't seem at all threatened when four teenagers stood together to challenge him. "Four little piggies so eager to play. Good…I always like a little struggle in the kill." With a roar, he leaped at them.

The four scattered, just as Sabretooth landed in the middle of them. Before any could recover, Sabretooth leaped straight at Jason. Jason side-stepped a clawed swipe, and then aimed a kick at Sabretooth's exposed ribs. His attacker was ready, however, twisting away and returning with a savage kick to Jason's head. Jason sprawled to the ground, stunned. Grinning savagely, Sabretooth pounced again.

Bobby iced up and blasted Sabretooth with a frigid wind, veering him off course and tumbling. "You okay, Jason?" he called out.

Jason, already having sprung to his feet, clapped his hands together. "Never been better!" Quickly transmuting a staff, he rounded about on Sabretooth. "Cool off, yet?!"

Sabretooth crouched, ready to spring. "I'm just warming up!" Again, he pounced. Jason dove in underneath, brandishing his staff like a spear. Smashing it into his ribs, Jason stood up sharply, smashing Sabretooth down onto his back. Roaring furiously, Sabretooth grabbed Jason's staff, and then spun around on his back, decking Jason.

Jumping back up, Sabretooth took the staff and geared up to smashing it through Jason's skull. "Not good enough, kid!"

Before he could, however, Kitty jumped up through the ground like a dolphin. "Like same to you, Sasquatch!" Diving back in, she grabbed Jason, phasing him through the ground with her. This happened so fast that that Sabretooth smashed the staff into the concrete, shattering the staff.

Roaring furiously, he didn't see Bobby warming up another frigid blast. He did, however, hear Bobby's taunt. "Hey, Bigfoot! Do us a favor and chill out!" He fired a solid blast of ice.

Sabretooth was ready. Evading each blast effortlessly, he managed to grab Bobby by the neck and heave him up over his head. Smiling victoriously, he said, "I guess I should thank you for leading me to Wolverine…but I changed my mind."

Seeing him distracted, Rogue peeled off one of her gloves and snuck closer to Sabretooth.

Bobby didn't appear to be threatened. "You're welcome." His icy form suddenly grew larger and sharper, coating Sabretooth's hands and arms in ice.

Roaring, Sabretooth swung Bobby around hard enough to shatter the ice around his arms. Bobby went flying right into Rogue, knocking her off her feet. As both lay there, he sniffed around for any scent of the main one he was after. He knew he wasn't far.

On the other side of the shell away from Sabretooth, Jason and Kitty emerged from the ground, gasping for air. Jason, looking shaky, gasped, "Don't ever do that again…"

Kitty stood up. "It's not so bad once you get used to it."

"I'll have to take your word for it." Jason stood up himself. "Hurry, we have to help Bobby and Rogue!"

Jason took off at a run towards the shell. Kitty followed right afterwards, and just as Jason heaved himself onto the shell itself, Kitty phased right through it. On the other side, Kitty immediately found the limp forms of Bobby and Rogue nearby. Gasping in surprise, she looked at Sabretooth nearby. Having heard her gasp, he turned to her. "So, little girlie, you want to tell me where the kid is?"

"How about you ask me yourself?" came a voice from above. "Kitty, phase!"

Both looked up, just in time to see a blast of alchemic energy shatter the roof, sending it crashing down. Kitty phased through the ground, just as the concrete rained down, burying a roaring Sabretooth. After the dust settled, Jason jumped down to the floor and looked at the damage. "Man, did he fall for the same trick twice?"

Kitty reappeared from the ground. "Wow, I'm so not going to fix that."

"Yeah, that's my job apparently." Jason brushed his hands. "We'd better get out of here. I don't know how long Sabretooth will stay down, but he's as tough as Logan. Might not be long."

Kitty looked to see Bobby and Rogue gingerly pick themselves up. "You guys ok?" Kitty called.

Bobby seemed unsure. "I think I broke something…"

Rogue looked back at Bobby. "Yeah, you did…the radio."

Bobby looked where he landed: sure enough, there were pieces of what looked like a CD-player/radio. "Oh…" he simply said.

Kitty looked upset. "You are so lucky that Jason can fix that, Bobby, or you'd be in big trouble."

Jason shrugged. "What am I, a janitor?"

Suddenly, the mound of concrete exploded, showering them all. Jason covered his face, stepping back, only to find himself thrown to the ground, with a clawed hand wrapped around his throat, and another pinning one arm to the ground.

When the others recovered, the first thing they saw was Jason pinned to the ground by a bleeding Sabretooth, his wounds seemingly not bothering him in the least. "Jason!" Rogue cried out.

Sabretooth snarled. "Any of you come any closer or try anything, I snap his neck!" Turning back to Jason, he grinned. "Nice try, kid…now…you owe me a scream…"

Jason could feel the pressure build in his eyes as his lungs ached for air.

"I can't hear you!"

"How about me?!" snarled a violent voice.

Sabretooth looked up, just in time to see Wolverine run up and tackle him. Jason's chest expanded automatically, allowing a burning gasp of air to fly inside. Sabretooth and Wolverine tangled along the ground like warring pit bulls until Wolverine pinned Sabretooth down. "Wanting to kill kids, Creed?! Big mistake!"

Sabretooth grinned savagely. "Yeah, why?"

"Because it pisses me off!" Wolverine aimed a slice at Sabretooth's throat.

Sabretooth managed to get his hands underneath Wolverine and throw him off. Bounding to his feet, he bared his claws and teeth. "In that case, I should do it more—" Suddenly, Sabretooth screamed in pain, twitching in his extremities. After only a few seconds, he sighed and flopped over forwards.

Wolverine looked puzzled at this development at first, but then looking up, he saw Rogue hold up a bare hand. Suddenly, Rogue felt beastly, and watched in horror as her nails grew to claws, ripping up her glove on her other hand. Her hair grew to four times its length and hair on her arms and legs grew out. Her muscles bulged and her boots burst as claws shot out her toes.

All watched in morbid fascination as Rogue undergone her transformation; they all knew what was going on, but it was still rather terrifying. Rogue pulled her long locks from her eyes as she looked at herself. "Aww, I just shaved my legs last night!"

Jason picked himself up, rubbing his neck. "Good thing your costume in the musical has you pretty well covered, I guess…" he wheezed.

Wolverine looked at Sabretooth's limp body. "The finishing touch. Not quite what I had in mind…but it works." Logan's eyes suddenly found Bobby. "And what are _you_ doing out here, Drake?!"

Bobby gulped. "Uh…I was just…"

"Oh, shut up. I don't want to hear it. You march your ass right back to the Institute right now, and you can bet your lunch that you're grounded!"

Bobby wilted at that; however, he knew he deserved it. "Uh…for how long?"

Logan looked at Bobby briefly before answering. "I haven't decided yet…as long as She-Wolf keeps her look at least."

Rogue crossed her arms and looked impudently at Bobby.

Jason looked at Sabretooth. "How did he find us again?"

"Long story, and I ain't got the time," Logan said. "Now clean this place up and head back to the mansion. That goes for the rest of you. Me? I have some unfinished business to take care of." Scooping up Sabretooth and throwing him over his shoulder like a potato sack, he turned to leave.

"What are you going to do to him?" Jason said, crossing his arms.

"Not what you're thinking, Scarface." Logan turned back to Jason with a ghost of a smile. "Let's just say he's earned a small time out."

* * *

><p><em>North Pole – 8:21 PM<em>

Sabretooth's eyes worked themselves open, and the first thing he felt was the frigid Arctic wind. Blinking, he looked around in the darkness of the winter night. Brushing off the snow that coated him, he tried to make sense of his headache. How did he get here? Where was here?

He was so lost that he didn't hear the sound of thrusters peel through the sky above him.

* * *

><p>Professor Xavier sat in the copilot's seat, contemplating on the day's events. "Well, hopefully that will deter Sabretooth from the Bayville area for a very long time."<p>

Logan sat in the pilot's seat, pushing the Blackbird home. "You sure he's not going to pull anything like this again?"

The Professor looked at Logan. "While I cannot guarantee that he will stay away from the mansion indefinitely, I have wiped his mind of any trace of the mansion or your location. Unfortunately, I was not able to dampen his hatred of you; his hatred has engrained itself into his behavior so deeply that I cannot alter it. I'm sorry, Logan."

"Don't sweat it, Chuck. He won't be a problem if he and I find each other again."

The Professor couldn't help but agree. "From what I hear, young Jason managed to hold himself as long as he could against Sabretooth again."

Logan growled. "Not long enough."

"There's always room for improvement, Logan, but despite being caught by surprise, Jason managed to keep himself and the rest from serious harm until you arrived. He's proven resourceful once again."

Logan showed his usual indifferent. "He got lucky again, Chuck. Had I been any later, Jason would be missing his head."

"Had he been alone, yes. I'm sure Kitty, Bobby or Rogue might have come up with something."

"You gettin' at something, Chuck?"

"Not just yet…but after Jason faced Mystique, and has displayed a surprising amount of maturity from it, I can't help but consider how close he is to becoming an X-Man."

"But…?"

"Jason has said himself that his loyalty was almost swayed that day, and that has been dwelling on me since. Until I'm sure his resolve is set in stone, I don't believe he will be ready."

Logan let that analysis tumble through his head for a bit. He was aware that all the X-Men had to undergo a personal trial to achieve the rank of X-Man, but Jason was a bit special. With the others, loyalty was never in question. "So…how do you intend to have him prove it?"

The Professor looked very thoughtful. "I don't know…not yet…"

The rest of the trip went by in silence as both mutants considered what might come next.

* * *

><p><em>Bayville High School Auditorium – Friday, November 4<em>_th__, 2011 – 6:21 PM_

Jason looked through his designated space in the wardrobe closet. The show featured a lot of costume changes, so he was inspecting each one to make sure everything was present. He was already wearing his opening number suit, which made him feel like he stepped out of the late forties. Considering the time period that the musical takes place in, that's probably a good thing. After a few minutes, he seemed satisfied and sat in front of the mirror again to make sure he looked the part. His hair was slicked back to give him the look of the forties, and it felt like he was wearing his own hair rather than it being a part of him. Subconsciously patting at it to feel how stiff it was, he had to wonder how this was even considered a good haircut back then.

"I doubt you'll look any more like you step out from a noir, _mon ami_."

Jason looked at the mirror to see the reflection of Jean-Paul—also in costume—smiling at him. Rolling his eyes, Jason looked back at him. "Just slap me or something if I start quoting _Casablanca_."

"I'll hold you to that. So, you ready for the show?"

Jason sighed, trying to quell the feeling of butterflies in his stomach. "Ready as I'll ever be. It's been a very long two months, and I swear to god, if I hear another 'again but better,' I might rip off one of the stage lights and give it a heave."

Jean-Paul scoffed. "Good luck with that. Those things are heavy."

"Have some faith in me. I might surprise you."

"Really?"

Jason looked at Jean-Paul with a conspiratorial grin. "Yes…really." Rotating his chair around to face Jean-Paul, his countenance turned grave. "Listen, Jean-Paul, I knew we had our talk yesterday and started the whole forgive-and-forget thing, but I still feel like shit for taking things out on you."

Jean-Paul crossed his arms, looking bemused. "Jason, you are in serious need of counseling."

Jason let his head fall back on his shoulders. "Yeah, maybe. Listen, I was wondering. I've been systemically trying to get Peter to come outside once in a while myself, and I was wondering, I was thinking of just going out for bowling. You, me, Peter and whoever else you want to bring. After this musical, I think we could all used some R&R, and it might be a good way to get to know each other."

Jean-Paul looked even more amused. "Oh, so now you feel like opening up?"

Jason looked away. "Well…I owe you twice for biting your head off, and then for you being so understanding after my pathetic attempts at an apology."

"Yeah, I suppose you do…"

Jason snapped an annoyed look back at Jean-Paul. "You weren't supposed to agree with that!"

"I didn't think you had a say in that matter," Jean-Paul replied calmly.

Jason looked away again. "Fine, rub it in. Enjoy your spoils!"

"Now see? This is the side I like to see: a guy that can take a joke." Now it was Jean-Paul's turn to look serious. "You've always been so serious for such a long time that sometimes I wondered if you forgot how to be happy. Seriously, it was depressing. I hate it when I see people I know like that, so I can't help but try to cheer them up. But at the same time, I couldn't help but be curious about you."

This in turn made Jason curious. "Oh, yeah? How so?"

Jean-Paul shrugged. "You're just intriguing, I guess. The scar on your face kind of helps that, you know. I know, it's a no-go area for you; I'm just saying, you know. Despite whatever bad thing happened to you to get that, you seemed cool enough with this up until a a little over a month ago. You just seemed to change; you seemed less interested in things beyond school. It made me curious. That's kind of why I wanted to know a little bit more about you. I wanted to see if I could help in the very least…and who knows what would happen after that?"

Jason had listened in silence as Jean-Paul shared his thoughts, particularly when he shared about Jason's altered demeanor. Some people at the Institute had noticed this change as well, but none dared to ask him about it after the affair with the hurricane over two months ago. He couldn't blame them for that. "You know, backing up a bit, some of the guys back at the Institute noticed the same thing, but they were a little too intimidated to talk to me. Remember the hurricane a few months back?"

"Kind of hard to forget that, Jason."

"You can say that again. Well, you know how much of a prick I was back in the cave. Multiply that by about ten and you get the idea how I was that time. I was a complete mess; snapping at everyone, even Peter, and I was going off for days. Eventually, I locked myself away from everybody in the basement, the quietest place I could find." Jason heaved a sigh. "Thankfully, Peter was very forgiving and understanding…after I finally apologized."

"That sounds familiar," Jean-Paul smiled. "Yeah, Piotr is a great guy. He's just so shy. Do you know his ears turned red when he's embarrassed?"

Jason laughed. "I know what you are talking about, but I don't have the heart to tell him."

Jean-Paul smiled. "I did."

Jason looked astonished. "Oh my god, you little jerk! I bet he turned beet red."

"You got it."

Jason laughed again. After calming down, he said, "Yeah, he's a great guy. He helped me a lot through the worst of my more…somber days." Jason looked away again. "I'm very lucky to call him a friend."

"Yes, you are. Don't take that for granted, ok?"

Jason looked back. "I won't."

* * *

><p><em>8:43 PM<em>

The audience had refilled the auditorium to bear witness to the second act of Porter's classic _Kiss Me Kate_. They had already been treated to a delightful first act and their appreciation was communicated very clearly. Clearly, the composer and scriptwriter for this musical was a master, but one couldn't forget about the performers for this iteration. Who knew such talent was hidden away even in the neighborhoods of such a megalopolis as New York City?

Towards the back of the auditorium, many of the Institute crowd was sitting quite contently in the back. Mainly, they were here to support Jason, Kitty and Rogue, all three of them having been selected to participate in the production. As the play progressed though, they realized that the play was worth coming to after all and more.

During the intermission, the Professor had voiced his thoughts regarding the production. "I must say, I find myself quite impressed with how this production has gone. I'm familiar with this musical, and am appreciative at how well these students have presented it."

Ororo, sitting beside the Professor, agreed. "I'm impressed as well. Maybe some of them have a bright future in this line of work."

"Perhaps so…"

Deeper in the row, Jean and Scott had seated themselves to enjoy the second act. "This has been a great show, so far," Jean said.

While Scott didn't see himself as the musical type, he had to admit the same. "It's no wonder I've been catching Jason singing some of these. They are pretty catchy." Smiling a bit, he leaned into Jean. "He sings in the shower, you know."

Jean smiled. "Well, if it's half as good as how he has performed so far, I don't think he'll be shattering windows or eardrums any time soon. I keep hearing he had his own song in the show. I hope no one was just pulling my leg."

Scott looked at the program. "There still a lot of numbers on this list. Odds are one of them is his."

"I guess you're right. Nice to see Kitty and Rogue finally get their act together for this. Although I hear we have Jason to thank for that as well."

"Just wait, they'll be back at each other's throats again soon enough."

"Just another day in paradise."

The lights began dimming, ushering the second act to begin. As they did, a reprise of the first act's finale played behind the curtains majestically. As it waned, the curtains receded revealing a very different scene from whence the first act closed. It appeared to be a back alley, where the cast of the play—within the play—seemed to be sweltering on a hot summer day. All tried their respective ways to cool themselves down to no avail. All watched in disinterest as the stagemaster tried to listen to what sounded like a baseball game with little success. Upon his leaving, the quiet but distinct trums of a bass ushered in lights to focus on Jason's character—one of the suitors—who looked almost catatonic. Lifting his tired head up, he began quietly:

"_It's too darn hot!__  
><em>_It's too darn hot!__  
><em>_I'd like to sup with my__baby__tonight,__  
><em>_Refill the cup with my baby tonight.__  
><em>_I'd like to sup with my baby tonight,__  
><em>_Refill the cup with my baby tonight,__  
><em>_But I ain't up to my baby tonight__  
><em>_'Cause it's too darn__ hot…"_

The door to the theater opened, permitting the sultry and flirtatious Lois Lane—played by Jean's friend Taryn—to exit. In one with the music, many of the males whistled towards her. Jason seemed indifferent. Perhaps the heat had dulled him. Stepping up on a box, he bemoaned the weather keeping him from doing what he wanted to do, all the while backed up by the wail of a saxophone.

"_It's too darn hot!__  
><em>_It's too darn hot!__  
><em>_I'd like to coo with my baby tonight,__  
><em>_And pitch the woo with my baby tonight.__  
><em>_I'd like to coo with my baby tonight,__  
><em>_And pitch the woo with my baby tonight.__  
><em>_But brother you fight my baby tonight__"_

Jason's snapped up, renewed with new energy, and so did the music. _"__Cause it's too darn hot." _Leaping off the box, he spun towards one of the lovely ladies and continued rather voluptuously.

"_It's too darn hot, it's too darn hot  
><em>_I'd like to fool with my baby tonight  
><em>_break ev'ry rule with my baby tonight  
><em>_I'd like to fool with my baby tonight  
><em>_break ev'ry rule with my baby tonight  
><em>_but pillow you'll be my baby tonight  
><em>_cause it's too darn hot!"_

Backing off, he surmounted his box again.

"_According to the Kinsey Report__  
><em>_Ev'ry average man you know__  
><em>_Much prefers his love-y dove-y to court__  
><em>_When the temperature is low…"_

Jason visibly deflated.

_"But when the thermometer goes 'way up__  
><em>_And the weather is sizzling hot,__  
><em>_Mister Adam for his madam is not__,  
><em>_Cause it's too too too darn hot  
><em>_It's too darn hot  
><em>_It's too darn hot!"_

Leaping from his box, he continued, mustering more energy just as two troupe members we replaying catch with a baseball. Intercepting the ball, he went on.

"_It's too darn hot, it's too too too too darn hot  
><em>_I'd like to call on my baby tonight  
><em>_and give my all to my baby tonight  
><em>_I'd like to call on my baby tonight  
><em>_and give my all to my baby tonight  
><em>_but I can't play ball with my baby tonight  
><em>_cause it's too darn hot."_

As the troupe sung on complainingly about the weather, Jason scampered up to Taryn to share his feelings.

"_I'd like to meet with my baby tonight  
><em>_get off my feet with my baby tonight  
><em>_I'd like to meet with my baby tonight  
><em>_get off my feet with my baby tonight  
><em>_but no repeat with my baby tonight  
><em>_cause it's too darn hot."_

Leaving Taryn, he sprinted to Kitty and Rogue, sliding to a stop on his knees.

"_I'd like to coo with my baby tonight  
><em>_and pitch some woo with my baby tonight  
><em>_I'd like to coo with my baby tonight  
><em>_and pitch some woo with my baby tonight  
><em>_but sister you fight my baby tonight  
><em>_cause it's too darn hot."_

The troupe all joined in for the bridge, sharing Jason's feelings.

"_According to the Kinsey report  
>ev'ry average man you know<br>__much prefers to play his favorite sport  
><em>_when the temperature is low…"_

Jason cut them off with a wave of the hand.

"_But when the thermometer goes way up  
><em>_and the weather is sizzling hot  
><em>_Mister GOB for his squab,  
><em>_a marine for his queen  
><em>_a G.I. for his cutie-pie is not  
><em>_Cause it's too too too darn hot  
><em>_It's too darn hot  
><em>_It's too darn hot!"_

Aggressively swiping the sweat from his brow, Jason finally had enough. "Damn, it's hot!"

On cue, the rest of the troupe got up and joined Jason, dancing the heat away with a sassy dance, sometimes alone and sometimes partnered up. The heat wasn't going to roast this dance as the music drove them to get wild to fight the humidity. At one stance, all froze in a circle surrounding Jason, only moving when the music permitted it. Finally, as one, they put their last energy into a quick and classy number that screamed steamy. Finally, when the music ended, all collapsed on the ground, exhausted.

As the audience applauded—coupled with shouts and whistles—the back stage chief marched out, angrily calling all cast inside as a music born of the Renaissance ushered the scene blackout. The show went on…

* * *

><p><em>Xavier Institute for Gifted Children – 11:23 PM<em>

Piotr was sitting up on his bed, dressed only in a tank-top and shorts busily working on a drawing he got inspired to do when he was watching the musical earlier that night. Of all the scenes that stuck with him, it was the opening scene of the second act, called "Too Darn Hot." Perhaps he was a little biased; it was his best friend's solo number after all. He had initially watched a couple of the rehearsals early on in the year, but as classes grew harder, he had to spend more time working on homework. Before the musical, Jason and Piotr often worked together on their homework, but it is more accurate to say that Jason helped Piotr out on homework than to suggest the other way around happened enough. Trials of a "high-schooler" that has English as a _second_ language, he guessed.

Jason came into the room, wearing only white with faded stripes sleep-pants and a toothbrush still in his mouth, quietly singing a song from the musical. "_But I'm always true to you darling in my fashion…yes I'm always true to you darling in my way…_" Looking up, he saw Piotr sitting with an amused expression. Taking out his toothbrush, he said. "I think this musical is going to be stuck in my head for a while."

"You think so?"

"I know so." Jason sat down, grimacing as his stiff muscles protested. "My god, I need a masseur like nobody's business. I can feel every muscle move in my back." Moving his shoulders back and forth, he felt his spine click several times. "Ooh, I hope you didn't hear that."

Piotr set down his notepad. "Do you need massage?"

Jason opened his eyes. "If you don't mind, I'm not going to say no."

Piotr stood up from the bed and walked over to Jason. Climbing onto the bed behind Jason, he allowed his large hands to work against Jason's shoulder muscles and bones. Even when he was out of metal form, his hands had solid strength behind them. He prided himself in staying in very good shape, lighting weights in both metal and flesh form.

Jason moaned a bit. "Ok, that already feels a lot better."

"I am glad. Your muscles are very tight."

"I really haven't given them any TLC since I came to the Institute. Danger Room sessions, my personal workouts, the musical and whatever else…and that includes falling off a cliff twice."

Piotr could understand that. He could see many small scars populating Jason's lithe yet built body, some of them had dimension still. He wondered which were from the tornado and from more recent incidents. "Yes, you had things rough."

Jason smiled a bit, enjoying the feel of his muscles slowly unknotting themselves under Piotr's hands. "You can say that again…but I guess we all have our scars, both outside and in."

"Yes, we do."

"But it reminds me of something my Dad said before I came here." Jason was interrupted by his own body as a quiver ran down his spine, feeling liberated from stress. "He always said that scars are the body's way of recording history, and the biggest…" He motioned to the scar on his face. "…most life-changing ones stick around the most. And just like history, each scar is there to remind us what we have been through, and how we act to that knowledge is what really makes a man." Jason didn't say so, but Piotr's massaging was oddly relaxing, more than he thought it would be. "Needless to say, sometimes I haven't reacted the best."

Piotr frowned at this, but kept working, shifting his arms to Jason's sides, just underneath his shoulder blades. "You always bring up past, Jason. Can you ever forgive yourself?"

Jason turned his head slightly to Piotr. "I ask myself that every day, Peter. The silence is my answer."

Piotr stopped, grabbed Jason's shoulder, pulling it back to force Jason to look at him. "Jason, you tell me to stop blaming myself back at hospital. You can stop too. You talk to Jean-Paul yesterday, _da_?"

Jason nodded, still a little shocked at how forward Piotr was for doing this.

"He forgive you, _da_?"

Again, Jason nodded.

"Then that is all that matter," Piotr finished up succinctly, his gaze hardening ever so slightly.

Jason's mind froze. Piotr was usually the quiet and shy one, and he was not used to seeing him like this. It unnerved him. Before he even had a chance to respond, Piotr released his shoulder, allowing his top half to fall back to its original position. Jason once again felt Piotr's hands work on his sore muscles while his brain worked overtime. He reflected on how melancholy he had been for the past couple of months, Jean-Paul even said as much. Had he really been so depressed that it showed that well for that long? He had to have been, and because of it he had nearly destroyed a budding friendship, and shoved others out for not understanding him. Sure, they understood him, but they didn't "understand" him. They would never know what kind of pain he has gone through, the ghosts he fought every night. Every time he woke up, he asked the ghosts for absolution…and they would laugh in his face. He was slowly losing this battle on his own, and even now he had a hard time opening up about them. Jean was right about that. Piotr's little lecture just now put the final nail in things, and now he saw how foolish he had been.

He felt a familiar burning sensation in his eyes, and he immediately brushed them away with the back of his arm. Piotr noticed this gesture. "Jason?" he said, softening.

Automatically, Jason started, "It's—" And then cut himself off. There he went again, going on autopilot at the worst times. "I'm—" Now his throat started constricting. Why did it have to be this hard? Swallowing, he tried again. "I'm…sorry."

Piotr paused, his hands still coiled around Jason's ribs. "For what."

"Everything. You were right; you all were. I've blamed myself for everything…and I keep doing it, no matter what anyone says." Jason faltered in his words, but forced himself to continue. If he was going to crumble, he might as well do it properly. "But I can't stop, it just keeps happening. I don't know what to do. I…I don't know!" Jason sniffed again, his eyes beginning to sting again. He lifted up his arm to wiped them away again…but was intercepted by Piotr's hand. Jason froze, until he heard Piotr speak.

"Let them go…please."

At once, the shell cracked. Gasping, he let his arm fall…quickly followed by his tears. Piotr brought one arm around Jason's chest, holding him tight, allowing the other to come over and rest on Jason's shoulder. He allowed Jason to fall, but he'd be damned if he let him break.

"I'm sorry…I'm so sorry!"

"It is ok…" Piotr reassured softly. "Let them go…just let them go."

Piotr felt his own eyes sting, hurting for Jason. He too had his own scars, just as Jason more or less said, but for now, Jason's scars needed tending to. His were healing, however slowly. As Jason continued to let it all go, all he could do was keep him steady and be there…just like when the hurricane changed everything for Jason. Later, he would ask Jason to talk to the Professor more about this. He knew he couldn't help Jason with everything, but he would do anything he could to help, and for now that was enough.

* * *

><p><em>Oh my goodness, I am so terribly sorry! My life had been going completely nuts these last several months. A big move, job stress, some seizures—I'm sort of an epileptic—things were just crazy. It took me forever to sit down and relax enough to get back to this. I was a fourth of the way through when stuff hit the fan. As that time happened, I had a lot to think about. I hope I didn't lose you guys for taking so long. <em>

_This chapter was also a bit of a tough one to write for some reason. I even found myself in tears as I wrote it for some reason. I'm glad to finally get it over with though, especially because how it signals a change in Jason…as well as some possible trials ahead for him. _

_Anyway, I hope you enjoy this special chapter. By the way, have you figured out the riddle I left at the end of my first book? The answer was in this chapter. _

_This chapter was based on __**Episode 8: SpykeCam**__, only "Spyke-less." No Q&A this time, so now we have the next chapter coming up! As you might guess, this next chapter should be a bit more typical of X-Men stories. "Too Darn Hot" was written by Cole Porter (c) 1948._

_The test is on for the X-Men, and its theme is survival. Far away from civilization, the opportunity to settle some old grudges proves too good for some, but an even deeper grudge comes back to life in the form of one of the biggest dangers the X-Men have yet to face, and it might prove to be unstoppable. Find out next time in __**Chapter 9: Grudges**__. _


	10. Chapter 9: Grudges

**CHAPTER 9:**** Grudges**

* * *

><p><em>Xavier Institute for Gifted Children – Monday, November 7<em>_th__, 2011 – 8:08 PM_

In his study, the Professor sat near the fireplace, its flames sharing its warmth as they danced upon their kindling. It had been an eventful past few days, more or less. After successfully wiping Sabretooth's mind of any trace of the Institute and its location, the Professor began considering possible options providing a similar incident might occur. Despite being easily the most powerful telepath encountered so far, his reluctance to dominate his will on anyone kept him from using it too much. He found rewriting or erasing memories of anyone, no matter who they were, to be unethical if not immoral. While he had the power to do that and much more, who was he to decide who should remember what or what not?

Idealism aside, he had to face realism. There were people out there who would seek harm to his students, and Sabretooth was certainly among them. Despite his moral objections, he found himself having to commit to the act if only to preserve the safety of his charges. A terrible choice, but how horrendous would he be if he allowed his morals to jeopardize the safety of innocents? The world was a great many shades of grey, and it took an adept artist to distinguish them all. When each hellish choice comes his way, all he could do was hope he would see as much as he could before acting. In decisions like the ones he has had to make in the past, one mistake was catastrophic. Most were against enemies of peace, but there was one very perilous choice he had to make for one of his students.

Jean Grey was the second he sought after upon opening the Institute—Scott Summers being the first—and her mutation had gotten the better of her. The Professor had found her in a padded room in a mental institute. Her telepathy was so intense that she could not distinguish real voices from the telepathic ones. Moreover, she was continually haunted by visions of a raptor bird completely made up of flame.

When hearing about this, the Professor instantly remembered his conversation with the Majestrix of the Shi'ar Empire, Lilandra Neramani. Years ago, she had come to see what was believed to be the resting place of the Phoenix, a great force of the universe that the Shi'ar revered. Before leaving to return to the Empire, she left Charles a warning in the form of a prophecy:

"_From the ashes a fire shall be woken,  
><em>_A child of her nest shall bear her flame,  
><em>_Renewed shall be wings long broken,  
><em>_The Phoenix shall soon mark her claim…"_

From this verse, the Professor reasoned that if the Phoenix does in fact resurrect, it will be through the body of a son or daughter of the Earth. According to Lilandra, the Phoenix got her form from those she created. When her creations died, their sparks returned to her, setting ablaze her token corporeal form. Now, she sleeps and according to the Shi'ar, within the planet itself…but her sleep was not everlasting. Ever since then, he kept a weather eye out for any hint of the Phoenix, even though he really had no idea what to look for.

When the image of what might be a phoenix appeared in Jean's nightmarish hallucinations, his attention focused on her. He had to work hard to get access to Jean in her cell. What he saw was heartbreaking. Jean had been bound completely in a straightjacket, her auburn locks completely shaven to the root and there was evidence of self-inflicted injuries. Over months of sessions, Jean slowly grew more and more stable, and through these sessions, the Professor had discovered that her mutation had rooted itself in the subconscious part of her brain. This indicated that her telepathy would be instinctual, and that she would have to work hard to keep it from reaching out. The Professor also learned that the mutation had awakened violently at the very early age of six, after having witnessed a close childhood friend being hit by a car, killing her. Presumably, it was a combination of grief, trauma and her awakening powers that sent her into insanity. After several months, Jean was cleared to leave and had since lived with the Professor, yet she has reclaimed contact with her parents, rather joyously as well.

Ever since then, the Professor kept a watch over her, just in case the visions ever returned. If they did not, then more than likely the Phoenix was little more than legend, no matter how earnest Lilandra was about it. Jean Grey was probably the first true Omega-class mutant he had encountered, easily possessing a telepathic potential surpassing his, perhaps limitless. He wasn't threatened, but he couldn't help but be concerned. Such raw power tended to be animalistic in its own nature. It's how Jean ended up in her former state. Their sessions involved tempering the powers so they could regrow as Jean grew older and in more control of them. So far, so good, he surmised.

Omega-level mutants were extremely rare, and he doubted a cosmic entity like the Phoenix would be interested in any "lesser being" as being flawed, however juvenile it sounded. However, in recent months, mutants of greater power were becoming more commonplace. One in particular stood out to him: Jason Downs, also known as the Alchemist. He had arrived at the Institute only a few months prior, but has already shown an impressive prowess. Coupled with a near-collegiate level knowledge in the sciences, he became more and more versatile. Despite nearly been killed more than once, his ability to rebound was extraordinary. As his talents bloomed, the Professor couldn't help but consider that Jason might be an Omega-level as well. There was no real guarantee: the line between Alpha and Omega levels was blurry at best. The ratings for mutants depended more on how flawed their abilities were or more accurately whether their powers hampered as well as helped.

Most housed at the Institute were Beta-class or higher, although there were many Alphas. The Professor tried to expand his Institute to the "less-fortunate" mutants rated Gamma or lower, but only succeeded with one: Rogue. Despite her potential, her powers hindered her ability to live more than any others. Most shunned any help and often disappeared off the radar. The Professor could only guess why. Jason's power has yet shown hindrance, but that didn't make him an Omega-class automatically. There was one more piece that needed to be seen before he could "earn" that rank.

A soft knock on the door interrupted his thoughts. Looking up, the Professor gave a quick mental scan to see who was at the door. It was Jason. His curiosity piqued, he answered, "It's open, Jason."

At once the door opened, permitting the lithe form of Jason in. A ghost of a smile etched across his face. "You know, no matter how many times you do that, it still spooks me a little bit."

The Professor folded his hands in his lap. "Forgive me, Jason, but I always suspect that many people do not wish to waste time with lengthy introductions or salutations. Therefore, I feel obliged to help things along."

Jason shrugged. "I'm not complaining, really. It's just a little jarring, s'all." Jason seemed to sober up. "I hope I'm not interrupting anything…"

The Professor's brow furrowed. "Jason, it is my priority to make time for my students if something ails them, both physically and mentally alike. I get the feeling you are deeply troubled."

Jason pursed his lips. "Yeah, I am."

A brief but uneasy silence passed between the student and his teacher. The Professor finally motioned to a chair. "Please, sit down."

"Thank you." Jason sat down in a vacant chair as the Professor positioned his wheelchair to be perpendicular with Jason.

The Professor folded his hands again in front of him. "Now, what seems to be the trouble?"

Jason sighed, as if considering his words. "This is going to be a really weird question…but it's been building up for a long time." Jason rubbed his chin nervously. "How can a guy…well…let go of his feelings?"

The Professor leaned back in his chair. "That is a most unusual question. I assume there is a pretense to this question."

Jason swallowed before continuing. "I just…I feel like I can't let go of my feelings. I get these…sensations like I can't stop blaming myself, like everything is my fault…you know?"

The Professor indeed had noticed this particular pendulum swing of Jason's moods in the past few months, and had marked the arc of the swing to begin around the time Jason began his feud with Pietro at school. Before that even, Jason always had problems letting go of anger. Now having an outlet, however unintentional, his psyche seems to have found a new substance to bottle. "Are you speaking of particular incidents, or just in general?"

Jason lowered his head. "Both."

The Professor considered the ambiguity of this answer. "Is there an example you're willing to share of either?"

Jason raised his head back, leaning back in the chair. "Well, it was the same day I ran into Mystique in the Tapoe Caves. Before that, I had gotten into a huge argument with a friend of mine, Jean-Paul Beaubier. In the heat of things, I completely unglued and called him a—" Jason cut himself off; even thinking the term made him cringe. "—I really hurt him, nearly making him cry. Ever since that time, I've felt lower than pond scum. I didn't even have the courage to look him in the eye. It wasn't until he interceded against Pietro until I finally got to talk to him again…but I didn't want to. I was too afraid. I wanted him to yell at me, curse me, call me the worst thing he could think of." Jason sighed morosely. "He didn't. He forgave me and I didn't even apologize."

While Jason allowed himself to recollect his thoughts before continuing, the Professor took the opportunity to say. "That was quite mature of him to do so. You should be thankful."

Jason sighed again. "I know…but even now, I still feel crap. The feelings are still there, and even though I know I'm forgiven for the stupid shit I did, I still feel this way. It got so bad that just a few days ago, Piotr practically lectured me about it…and then let me cry." Jason looked away. "I still feel bad about it..."

The Professor took this account and dissected it in his mind. An inciting incident provoked a stupor of depression that plagued Jason's psyche for the past month. Despite assurances from more than one friend that he was forgiven, he still felt haunted by his mistake. The center of all this was that Jason seemed to lack the ability to forgive himself. "I'm a little surprised, Jason. I'm surprised you did not come to see me sooner when your depression began fermenting…but perhaps in that lies the problem."

Jason looked back at the Professor, his eyes expectant.

"You don't trust your friends or those close to you…not fully." The Professor could see in Jason's eyes that he was shocked…and hurt. No telepathy required verification. "But even more prevalent, you don't trust yourself."

That forced Jason to look away clearly stung.

"You have seen yourself fail so many times that you feel you cannot trust yourself to succeed when it matters. This self-distrust has begun to bleed into your relationships to the point that no reassurance soothes you. In essence, you don't believe it when people say everything is all right. You've always had difficulty in confiding in your friends with your feelings, but the truth is, you've never confided in your feelings yourself. When others ask, you make excuses, push away or worse lash out. This is a vicious cycle Jason, and the only person who can break that is you."

Jason finally spoke, turning back to face the Professor. "But I've tried! Jean herself has told me that I had a hard time confiding in people, and I've tried to, I really did!"

The Professor met Jason's gaze. "But when you started feeling exposed and could feel what you thought were judgmental glances, you stepped right back. Correct?"

Jason made as if to speak, but checked himself. The Professor could tell that he had hit the nail on the head in his presumptions. Granted, it was a rather educated guess given Jason's lack of improvement in team trust and confidence. After a few moments, Jason looked sadly away. "I can't help it," he replied weakly.

The Professor laid a hand on Jason's shoulder. "Jason, you are trapped in a web of your own making, and your fears embody your spider. You've been cutting at the webbing for so long that you've failed to notice that the spider has repaired each cut. If you don't act soon, your fears will devour you."

Jason heaved a sigh. "I'm guessing this goes way beyond my dread of storms."

The Professor shook his head. "Jason, you are confusing your fears with your phobia. While related, they are two very different things. Your clinical astraphobia is a byproduct of your traumatic brain injury and post-traumatic stress. It is hardwired into your brain, so no amount of temperament can alter your hatred for storms. Phobias are biological with psychological origins, and panic is its offspring.

"What I am talking about is your fears, the things within your mind that create fear within you. It began with your doubts in yourself and your friends. Doubt begets fear, fear begets distrust, distrust begets anger, anger begets hate, and hate ends in suffering. Your fears exist only in your mind. They have no place in your body or your heart. Fear is an emotion and nothing more…and is often grossly exaggerated. There is no fear in the complete existence of the human mind that cannot be conquered. The first step is to recognize you have them." The Professor folded his hands again. "Do you recognize you have fears, Jason?"

Jason looked back at the Professor, quickly answering. "I'd be a liar if I said I didn't."

"Jason, do not give me a textbook answer; that comes from your mind. I want an answer straight from your heart."

Jason leaned back as if he felt the Professor's words bounce off of him. The Professor waited patiently as he observed Jason look away again as his eyes danced. He didn't need to use telepathy to know that Jason was looking for another answer. Jason had built walks of brick and stone around his heart to prevent anyone from getting too close to him. The Professor was all too familiar with the architecture; Jason had started building them nearly seven months ago. The only reason Jason was able to accept the offer to come to the Institute at all was because the Professor had managed to squeeze the seed in before the walls were complete. He was afraid that Magneto had also succeeded in planting his own, and this fear had been realized in the Tapoe Caves when Mystique successfully watered the seeds with doubts. Magneto's seed was growing as well, and its roots had started strangling Jason's resolve, and he could see it. They manifested as Jason's fears of confidence, and to the Professor's silent alarm, they were healthy.

Jason heaved a long sigh. His head moved unsteadily as he slowly replied, "I'm scared."

Those two words stopped the Professor's musings dead in their tracks, but a small look of relief briefly flashed on his face. "I know."

Jason blinked firmly. "I…I am really scared. I always have been."

"Yes, but don't lose heart, Jason. Fear is something every man, woman and child feels, and is not something to be ashamed of. It's our response to our fears that is paramount, and I do not intend to be condescending, but I'm afraid your reactions to your fears have been…less than satisfactory. Would you agree?"

To his surprise, Jason agreed rather quickly. "Yeah. I let myself snap at friends and blame myself overmuch…" Jason then shook his head. "Yet I still feel the shame. It's still there."

"That is because for two months, that is all you have known. You have not known the joy of absolving yourself of your guilt. Remember when I had the opportunity to meet your parents? You admitted that you felt that you could not confide in your parents with your powers, because you believed it was something they could not understand. What you failed to understand then was that you didn't need understanding; you needed love, and they gave that to you. Do you remember?"

Jason's eyes went distant as the memories of that May evening flashed before his eyes. A lot was said and exchanged that evening, and it ended in a very crucial choice for Jason. With the support of his parents, he accepted the invitation to attend the Institute. A ghost of a smile etched across Jason's face as he recollected it all. "Yeah, I remember. Some things never change, do they?"

"You are still growing, Jason, both physically and mentally. You've had a trying year, and if I must say, you have done well so far. I knew that soon enough you would approach me regarding your more private troubles, so all I did was give you the space you needed until you mustered the courage to speak to me. And here you are."

Jason nodded as he repeated. "Here I am…but how do I get rid of this guilt since I've felt it for so long?"

"You've already begun the process by speaking to me: you confided in me. That is the key to building trust, Jason: to learn to expose yourself to the people you have chosen to trust. It can be frightening, rattling, risky…but if you have chosen wisely, it is rewarding."

Jason nodded, yet looked apprehensive. "Like I've said before, I've tried opening up to others here…"

"I know, Jason, but like with your parents, how about instead of seeking for understanding, seek for their care." Jason's eyes darted aside as he thought about this; the Professor decided to follow it up. "If I could speak for many of the students here, many of them wish to be your friend and are trustworthy if you let them. While I could give you more iconic examples, I have a feeling you have already discovered a couple already."

Jason's eyes shot to the Professor, but a smile appeared on his face. "Yeah, I suppose I did."

"And you have already begun to open up to those whom you have chosen." _"One in particular, I dare say…" _

Jason conceded this observation with a subtle nod, although he was oblivious to the Professor's private thoughts regarding one choice. Still, something bothered him. "I need to be honest. Even though you make it sound rather...easy." Jason lowered his head once again. "But I still feel scared to do it. I feel so…unprotected."

The Professor folded his hands. "That is precisely what friends are for, Jason."

Jason looked back at the Professor, shocked at the simplicity of the answer.

"Friends will be among the greatest treasures any man or woman can grasp, for true friends will gladly bear each other's burdens. After all, Jason, you can only discover your true friends through adversity, as well your capacity to trust."

Jason looked away, mentally digesting what he had just heard. "I want to confide in my friends…I really do." Looking back, he said. "What can I do?"

The Professor leaned back in his wheelchair. "I have an assignment for you, Jason. In a couple of days, the members of the X-Men, your peers, will be leaving for survival training at Camp Ironback upstate. Originally, it was exclusive only to the senior members of the Institute, but I'm placing both you and Bobby Drake along with them. Along with the assigned survival training, I have a special task just for you."

Jason leaned forward. "What is it?"

The Professor leaned forward himself. "Be the better man."

Jason's brow instantly furrowed. "I'm…not sure I follow."

"It all starts with what we talked about, Jason. You cannot mature as an adult until you take the initiative to become a better man. When you return, I expect an account of your transpirations. Understood?"

Jason looked away briefly, and then looked back at the Professor. "Yes, sir."

"Good. May I assist you any further?"

Jason shook his head, standing up. "No, I think I'm done."

The Professor nodded, his countenance softening. "I know what I am saying is a bitter pill to swallow, but that is the nature of things that are designed to purge. The healing process is often trying, but if you persevere, you will come out better than you have before. Know that if whatever troubles you grows unbearable that there is always help in reach."

Jason nodded. "Thank you, Professor. I'll try my best."

The Professor nodded in return. "Now I'm fairly certain you still have some homework to do before bed. Off you go!"

Jason smiled a bit before walking past the Professor to leave. Watching him go, the Professor considered what he had just set into motion. Jason had been quickly rising in the ranks among the newer students, and was right now in consideration to become a senior member of the Institute, to join the X-Men. The only thing that was holding Jason back right now was that Jason's resolve was still shaky, mainly because of his tendency to be self-defeating. Jason was skilled and resourceful, but that meant nothing if his resolve was poor. Hopefully Jason would not waste this opportunity to step up to the plate.

* * *

><p><em>Stokes County Maximum Security Facility, Upstate New York – Wednesday, November 9<em>_th__, 2011 – 2:09 AM_

As a mid-autumn fog rolled in through the Catskill Ranges, an isolated prison facility stood as a monument to society's dark side. Stokes County Max-Sec was home to some of the most dangerous criminals in the state, sometimes used by S.H.I.E.L.D. to house some of the more dangerous criminals they happen to snag if the Triskelion didn't have proper facilities to accommodate the criminal in question. Security was among the strongest in the state, and the prison population was kept under tight control in all six stories of its building.

The facility did have a secret, however. While the population was held above ground, there was one area deep beneath the compound that was kept away from the rest of the populace. Some of the guards didn't even know how to access it, and those that did were very few in number. Inspections of the area were frequent and were often done by the same person every time. While rumors among the population were numerous, none knew the truth about what they all called "the hole." The prudent ones dared not ask, and the more cavalier were often punished for their curiosity. Thus the hole remained the darkest secret of Stokes County Max-Sec.

One guard knew that his round into the hole was upon him, and he strode slowly but determinedly towards the entrance. The entrance itself looked like a bank vault, a large circular galvanized steel door at least a foot thick yet still protected with two sets of barred gates, also made of galvanized steel. The gates were simple enough, each one had its unique key to open it, and the guard had everything he needed. Upon reaching the vault-like door, he withdrew a rather peculiar rod-shaped key and inserted it into the keyhole beside the door. The guard turns it rather mechanically in different directions until a green light shows up just above the keyhole, permitting entry. The door slowly works itself open allowing the guard to access the hallway.

The long metal hallway was rather unremarkable, and smelled strongly of the material it was made. The guard wasted no time travelling towards the only other structure in the room: an elevator door that led to the belly of the facility: the hole. The ride was uneventful, and for some the silence could be deafening. The guard however was used to the silence, and silence in this part of the facility was a good thing. It was silence on the upper floors that was disturbing. Once the elevator cab reached the bottom floor, the doors slid open, introducing the guard to a door guarded with motion-sensing lasers. Not deterred in the slightest, the guard reached for a nearby panel and laid down a hand on a hand-shaped pad. A series of beeps and lights flashing rose from the panel, only moments before all the lights turned green followed by the lasers evaporating.

The next obstacle in the guard's path was an access room that sat above a more-than-respectable drop. Ignoring the drop only a few meters to his left and right, the guard walked confidently across the narrow walkway towards the middle of the chamber, where sat an indented area featuring a retinal scanner device. Stooping down to the device, the guard looked straight into the slot. A green paper-thin beam of light shot through the guard's pupils, meticulously scanning every rod, cone and capillary as it did. After several still seconds, the GUI interface in the scanner displayed "ACCESS GRANTED," immediately followed by the entire room turning around. The guard stood still as the hallway he came from slowly slipped out of view. Eventually, a new room came into view; a circular room with no exit. The walls were heavily and ominously paneled, hiding who knew what. The only other thing in the room was a large device that looked like a glorified piston stopper, accompanied by a comparatively unremarkable control panel.

The guard walked right up to the control panel and studied it briefly, making sense of the featureless buttons and switches. Finally, the guard pressed different ones sequentially, ending with a large red one. A hiss of hydraulics greeted the guard, and the piston slowly began to rise. As it did, it pulled up a chamber, filled with a greenish fluid. Contained therein was an even more interesting prospect: a hulking giant of a man, over nine feet of muscle and covered with brick-red armor. His arms were bare but as thick as a full-grown oak tree trunk. His hands were covered in reinforced gloves that looked solid enough to punch through steel effortlessly. Chains wrapped around his arms and body as if he was ready to escape at any time.

The guard looked as this giant rose in front of his eyes with a smile on his face. When the piston reached its full height, the guard pressed one more button on the control panel. The green fluid began to bubble, slowly draining through the vents of the chamber floor. Slowly, the giant's head rose from the water, sleeking his fire-red hair. The fluid continued to drain and while it did, the guard's form changed, shrinking and melting into a slender form of a blue-skinned woman, dressed in a white tight-fitting outfit while bearing red locks of hair of her own. Her yellow serpentine eyes studied every inch of the giant, amazed at how something so rudimentary seemed to keep the giant at bay.

When the fluid drained away completely, the woman pressed another button, lifting the chamber containment from around the giant. An odious smell greeted the stale air of the room, but the woman didn't seem to notice.

"Hmm," she said with a low voice. "Cellular neuroparalytic bio-fluid: amazing that something so simple could stop the unstoppable, albeit in large amounts." Looking up to the giant, who had not stirred, she cooed. "Wake up, Cain. You've been asleep for a long time, but now we need you. It will be a bit before you move, but it won't be long."

The giant blinked very slowly, making a sound like a groaning growl.

"Once you do, I can sneak you out of here so you can…settle things with your step-brother." She looked thoughtful. "Now, what was his name again? Oh, yes…" Her eyes narrowed as her lips curled cruelly. "Charles Xavier."

Cain's eyes flashed open, his ice-blue eyes dilating at the name. Growling, he tried to move, only to find that the effects of the bio-fluid had not worn off yet. Chafing, he contented to growl his disapproval.

"Oh, sore subject?" The woman turned away. "Well, I can arrange something to make things a little easier."

Experimentally, Cain flexed his jaw, ignoring the ligaments in his jaw groaning like cold rubber. "Who…are you?" he managed to say in a deep rough voice.

"You may call me _Mystique_," the woman said. "I hear you have a more formidable name of your own, Cain: _Juggernaut_, the unstoppable. I can't imagine why." Looking at a panel near the door, she pulled it open to reveal a dome-like device with three slots placed strategically on one side of it. "Ah, here it is. You'll need this if you want to give Charles a piece of your mind…as it were."

Slowly bending his massive arms, Cain—Juggernaut—asked further. "Why…are you helping me?"

"Let's say I'm a deal maker:" Picking up the dome, she carried it towards Juggernaut as she continued, "I get you out of here, and you will help me get something Charles prizes above anything: his mutant-detection computer called Cerebro."

His eyes not leaving Mystique's, Juggernaut asked. "And…my brother?"

Mystique smiled as she slipped the dome over Juggernaut's head, the slots revealing his eyes and mouth. "I think I can trust him to you, can I?" Clipping on four locks around the circumference of the helmet, she stepped back. "After all, it's not like he needs Cerebro after you have your say, am I wrong?"

Juggernaut wordlessly flexed his arms and legs. They groaned after so long a period of disuse, but they were just as strong as ever. As the stiffness faded, a fire awoke inside of him: fury and a lust for carnage. Everything that happened to him was _his_ fault, and he was going to be torn apart for it. He had been dreaming of it. "Good," he said.

"Good, indeed," Mystique turned. "I have transportation ready. We will be there in—"

Juggernaut cut her off with a swipe to the side, knocking her into the wall. "No one takes me anywhere. No one tells me what to do. No one gets in my way!" Yelling, he ran towards the door, barreling through it with a crash.

Picking herself up, Mystique dusted herself off as she looked at the mess Juggernaut left behind so far. Ruefully, she crossed her arms. "Men."

* * *

><p><em>Ironback Survival Camp Site, Catskill Ranges – 9:01 AM<em>

"You will not be making baskets, wood carvings or necklaces!" A stout and gruff man, groomed by the army, paced back and forth in front of a single line of young men and women, barking out expectations. "You will not be engaging in potato sack races, water balloon fights or pony rides! You _will_ be taking twenty-mile hikes, rappelling two-hundred-foot cliffs and crossing treacherous water with nothing but a rope and all the courage you can muster! Do you read me?!"

"Yes, Sergeant Hawke, sir!" chorused the group, standing at attention.

"I said, 'do you read me'?!" the man barked louder.

"YES, SERGEANT HAWKE, SIR!"

"That's more like it." The sergeant crossed his thick arms. "Welcome to Ironback Survival Camp, a name you won't be forgetting until you're old enough to have great-grandkids. For the next week, you all are mine until I teach you how to survive in the wild like every damn soldier in the marines can! Is that clear?"

"Yes, Sergeant Hawke, sir!"

"I said, 'do you read me'?!"

"YES, SERGEANT HAWKE, SIR!"

"Good." He scrutinizingly studied each and every one of the twenty or so students here from Bayville High. Picking one out—one wearing red-shaded glasses—he marched up to him. "Now, we have here Mr. Scott Sumner—"

"_Summers_, sir," Scott automatically corrected.

"Whose scholastic achievements at Bayville High have earned him the rank as junior commanding officer. You _will_ pay attention to him. You _will_ follow his head. You _will_ listen to everything he says. Am I clear, soldiers?!"

"YES, SERGEANT HAWKE, SIR!" chorused the group.

"Now stow your bags to the barracks and report to the mess hall at 0930 hours! Dismissed!" Sergeant Hawke turned around on his heads and strode away.

There was a collective moan from the student body as they picked up their gear and made their way towards the barracks. Among them were many of the Xavier Institute students: Scott—their new commander—along with Jean, Kurt, Kitty, Rogue, Piotr, Jason and Bobby, the last two very recently added. All had come out to the Catskill Ranges to undergo survival training under the recommendation of their Professor, Charles Xavier. Despite the gorgeous sunny backdrop, the outlook of the team was overcast.

Kitty slumped on her bag as she sat. "I'm going to be like dead in two days…"

Bobby looked dismal. "You? I'm a Boston kid and a computer tech whiz, not a trooper!"

Jason sighed. "I think the only one of us with any real experience is Peter, and he's a farm boy." Jason peered at Piotr beside him. "No offense."

"It all right," Piotr said kindly.

"What did we do to deserve this?" Kurt asked.

"Maybe he thought those Burger Bombs are beginning to catch up to you, Kurt," Bobby joked.

Rogue heaved up her bag. "I don't know about you, but I'm going AWOL. Anybody know how to hotwire a school bus?"

"Whoa, slow down, everybody!" Scott said. "Come on, we just got here; no washing out in front of the whole school. Professor Xavier endorses survival training and this place, so let's not let him down because it looks like it would be too hard."

Jean joined in with the encouragement. "Yeah, besides it's not like he didn't give us a choice: survival training at Ironback or with Wolverine…"

Rogue scoffed. "Some choice."

Jason smiled. "Scylla or Charybdis? You decide."

"What is Jason and Bobby doing here, anyway?" Kurt asked. "I thought the Professor kept this to the X-Men."

Jason sneered. "Because I'm taller."

"Knock it off, Jason," Scott said. "The Professor wanted both Bobby and Jason with us because of their scores in recent Danger Room sessions."

"Yeah, we lived…" Bobby said. "High five, Jason!"

Jason held up a hand with his thumb tucked. "How 'bout four?"

"Well, at least someone's going to have a good time," Rogue said, rolling her eyes.

"I'll get back to you on that, Rogue," Jason said, standing up. "Another reason is that the Professor has a very special assignment for me after my last talk with him."

"Ooh, can I ask what kind of assignment?" Kurt asked.

"No, you may not…and it doesn't involve the Brotherhood jerks over there." Jason motioned with his head to a group of unruly-looking teens. "At least, I hope."

"Man, what a gyp that we have to deal with _them_ too…" Rogue said.

"It _is_ about survival," Kurt said.

"Come on, guys," Scott said. "We can do this. Now we'd better get our stuff to the barracks before things get crowded."

"At least it's not just us and the Brotherhood," Jason said as he stood up. "Did you guys see who else is here?"

"Now that you mention it," Kitty said. "Didn't I like see Alison Blaire over there?"

Jason smiled a bit. "I would hope so, or else I might be going crazy. I have to admit though; I didn't expect her to be here."

"Me neither," Kurt said. "What is she going to do, sing to us when we die out here?"

Jason elbowed Kurt in the ribs. "At least if that happened, it would sound so good. I mean, geez, y'all heard her at the musical? Didn't she sound great? Tell me she didn't!"

Kitty smiled. "I think you're in love, Jason…"

Jason looked annoyed, but a grin shot across his face. "Oh, stuff it, Kitty." He turned to leave.

As Kurt and Kitty followed him, singing off-key songs of love to him, Piotr looked after them briefly, his brow weighing heavily over his eyes before following them himself. The rest of the group picked up their respective belongings and made their way towards the barracks, all the while voicing their opinions regarding a week-long excursion in the mountains. Meanwhile, on the far side of the gathering, the four previously-mentioned Brotherhood boys scowled as they watched the Institute group meander away. Leading the pack was Lance; behind him were Todd, Pietro and Fred.

Fred crossed his massive arms. "Junior Commander? Scholastic achievements? Ha, that should have been me!"

One of Pietro's silver eyebrows shot up. "You can't even spell _scholastic achievement_, Blob!"

"Yeah? Well, I can spell _doomed_, which is what that goody-good gang is once they get out in the woods." Fred punctuated his threat with a pound of his fist into the palm of his hand.

Todd joined in. "Oh yeah, big man. I can see it now." Holding up an imaginary microphone to his mouth, he continued overdramatically. "Search has been called off for missing school kids in the mountains. No traces found; believed to have been eaten by a pig."

Fred looked livid at the insult, but Lance stepped in. "Knock it off! Besides, we'll stick it to them in the way it hurts most: here on the ground, in public, in front of everyone."

Pietro scoffed. "Yeah, it'd be hard to do it in public when no one's around to see…"

Lance ignored the speedster. "Remember, we're here to make sure they don't go anywhere. Now let's rock this place!"

The Brotherhood boys cheered and made their way towards the barracks.

* * *

><p>Juggernaut tromped his way down the road, his armor-plated boots pounding the pavement with each step. He was days from reaching the old mansion where he and his step-brother lived, especially on foot, but it didn't matter to him. It was just give his little step-brother the time he needed to prepare for him. He could prepare all he wanted; he wasn't going to stop the unstoppable Juggernaut this time.<p>

The wail of sirens reached his ears through his helmet. Looking ahead, he could see what appeared to be a police barricade right in his path. No doubt word had gotten out about his messy escape from the prison, and he was now the prize of a statewide manhunt. Not slowing in the least, he marched towards the barricade. If they wanted to be tossed aside, who was he to argue?

As the police bullhorns blared for him to freeze and surrender himself, he marched right up to the first police car and reached under it. Tossing it aside like a pebble, he moved to the next one and tossed it aside the same way. One by one, the police cruisers were tossed aside, leaving the officers shocked and surprised at the lumbering giant bulldozed through them all. No stern order seemed to threaten the giant, so some more cavalier officers fired Tasers. When the prongs latched onto Juggernaut's bear arms, he froze. Despite the fact that nearly two joules of electricity latched itself on his flesh, Juggernaut looked at the prongs as if they were houseflies. Grabbing the wires, he pulled the Tasers out of the cops' hands and smashed them into the ground, shattering them. Angered, he ran at the back of the barricade, barreling through officer and vehicle in his charge, sending all scattering. After bursting through the last barricade, he continued his trek southwards. Nothing will stand in his way, and if it does, it will be trashed.

The police, stunned by how easily this mammoth of an escaped convict was able to bisect their barricade, put a call through the radio. "Unit 252 requesting back-up! Suspect has cut through our barricades and is heading south!"

The dispatcher replied. "All units in your vicinity are currently occupied, 252. Alerts have already been sent to units in neighboring counties southwards."

The officer growled in frustration. "Well, send up the national guard or something like it to help them! This guy is nothing we've ever faced before!"

The sound of helicopter blades chopping the air soon began to override the officer. All the dumbstruck officers looked up to see a helicopter descending on them. It was jet black and featureless, save for an obnoxiously large emblem of an eagle circumscribed with the words _Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement and Logistics Division_. By all appearances, this helicopter was top of the line, reserved for the highest members of enforcement or government agencies.

The helicopter landed on the road nearby but far enough to not upset the scene. After a few tense minutes, the door slid open and several armed men in black and dark blue came out and stood in ranks between the doors. Following them out was a dark-skinned man, dressed in dark blue with a black overcoat. An eye-patch dominated the left side of his face but it didn't damper his glower in the slightest. Following him was a slim woman with long golden locks but bearing a cold gaze.

The man looked at the police. "Whoever's in charge here, pull your men back. We're taking over."

One officer stood up, looking affronted. "And just who the hell are you?"

The man glowered at the man with his good eye. "Colonel Nick Fury, son. This is a S.H.I.E.L.D. matter now. Take your men and find some other lowlife to snatch up."

Realizing they were outgunned in regards to authority, the police broke off and began working to clean up the damage, flipping the cars back over and what not to break off pursuit. Colonel Fury looked on as they did with his thoughts quieted.

"Eloquently put, sir," remarked the woman behind him.

"Your opinion was not requested, Captain Danvers," replied Fury, turning his head south. Juggernaut was now out of visual range, but Fury stared after him as if he did. "Marko, you son of a bitch. You picked a bad day to break out, Mystique be damned." Not looking away, he barked. "Danvers, status on locating Mystique?"

"Negative. All feeds that captured her in the forms we are aware of do not point how she got in or out of Stokes. We questioned the officer she was impersonating, but he claims to have no memory of how she had gotten access to his personal files and passcodes. However, there have been reports of her original name being used in the Long Island area. If—"

"Mystique will have to wait for another day, Danvers," Fury interrupted. "We have a literally bigger fish to fry." Fury weighed his options, considering what resources he should throw against such a force as Juggernaut. Times like this bring the reason why he was pushing the Avengers Initiative forwards, but so far without success so far. Currently, their numbers for such a proposal were too small. More accurately, their numbers for specialized agents of the demanded caliber were a trace select. Aside from the best archer in the world, a former Russian agent and a doctor with a love for things big and small in a manner of speaking, there was no one within S.H.I.E.L.D. good enough to fit the bill. Reluctantly, Fury had to reach out. When he did, he caught one of the most unlikely people to be a hero.

"Danvers, get me Stark Tower."

* * *

><p><em>Stark Tower; Manhattan, New York – Same day, 12:02 PM<em>

One of the most prominent buildings in New York, Stark Tower stood among the tallest buildings of the Manhattan skyline. It was headquarters of Stark Industries, one of the largest financial empires of the nation and the pioneer of weapons and defense technology. Self-described as "ninety-three stories of heaven on earth" by the eccentric and illustrious Anthony "Tony" Stark, the CEO of Stark Industries was anything but humble. His vanity was not unmerited; Stark Industries buoyed the United States Armed Forces to the superpower it is today. While his father, Howard Stark, and grandfather before him were industrial giants in their time, it was Tony's intellect and adaptability in regards to new and improved weapon systems that made Stark Industries the sole supplier for the United States Armed Forces.

Tony Stark, however, had something else to offer. After escaping capture while in Afghanistan demonstrating his latest weapons, Tony began working on a new invention, something unlike anything he had ever made: a combat exoskeleton, equipped with weapon and defensive systems designed for everything between crowd control and warfare. Powered by an implanted miniaturized arc reactor—a larger version powered the Tower—the exoskeleton gave Tony a new name:

Iron Man.

Becoming Iron Man gave Stark a new reason to live: not only as a merchant of weapons, but as a guardian against technological irresponsibility. It was a lesson he needed to learn himself, as he discovered his weapons being used against his own country. In captivity, he had seen how his irresponsibility as CEO nearly jeopardized America's security. Just as relevant, he had received a traumatic heart injury from his own weapon, forcing him to implant an electromagnetic pacemaker over his own heart. In captivity, he was able to miniaturize an arc reactor to keep the magnet powered...along with whatever battle-suit he wished to construct without his captors' knowledge. Upon escape, he returned to America to reorganize Stark Industries to prevent unethical sales of weaponry, along with taking up the mantle of Iron Man.

Much like Tony Stark himself, Iron Man was no secret to the country, or the world. What remained secret were the schematics for the Iron Man exoskeleton, even from the government—much to their chagrin. In response, S.H.I.E.L.D. began keeping an eye on Tony Stark and his adventures as Iron Man. At first, Tony was rather repulsed by the idea of being under the scrutinizing eye of the biggest intelligence agencies in the western hemisphere, but there wasn't much he could do about it aside from behind cheeky about it. That was something the great Tony Stark was great at, among more colorful things.

Inside his workshop, Tony sat bent over a workbench replacing a dented pieces of his armor, all the while surrounded by his earlier builds of his armor, all the way back to the Mark II—the Mark I being in a million pieces somewhere in Afghanistan. Upon removal of the plate, he looked at any damage underneath with a scowl. "JARVIS, take a look at this plate."

A hologram of an elderly butler appeared on the desk. _"It appears the titanium-gold alloy plate has suffered structural damage."_

Tony looked at the hologram. "I can see that. I mean take a look and see why bullets were able to pierce it so efficiently."

"_I assumed as much, sir, and my answer remains the same. The alloy appears to have suffered brittleness in the forging process. It's possible that the ore the titanium or gold was refined from was of poor quality. Rest assured; I have already inventoried the alloy we currently have in stock and have not traced the flaw in any of it. Ergo, this is likely an isolated event."_

"Well, glad to know." Tony artlessly tossed the flawed plate away. "Just one more thing we can kiss goodbye once the Extremis Armor is done."

"_As I have inquired on numerous occasions, sir, do you truly believe such a schematically-radical design exhibited by the Extremis Armor schematics dictate is truly wise?"_

"If I can pull this off, it will put me at a considerable advantage in case I get another friendly chat from my more rambunctious acquaintances."

"_I'm more expressing my concerns over possible biological consequences. If you truly desire to transcend organic and synthetic forms of existence, I would be more than happy to recommend a good novelist."_

Tony ignored the shot. "Anything else I need to know about regarding this armor?"

"_Beyond some possible foreign agents building up in the joints that can easily be rectified with thorough cleaning, everything is optimal."_

"Do it. Anything else?"

"_Ms. Potts wishes to inform you that you have a meeting with the board of directors tomorrow and to remind you that bringing one of the Maxim models would be most unwise."_

"Do it once and you never live it down," Tony mumbled.

"_And I appear to have been mistaken; feel free to write this down in the annals of history as you have promised to do. I have just received a transmission from a classified source, requesting your immediate answer."_

Tony was instantly curious, although his face didn't register it. He had mastered his poker face after repeated engagements of the fairer sex. "Accept." A holographic interface pulled up in front of him at his desk. "Stark."

"_Tony…we have a job for you…"_

* * *

><p>Jason gritted his teeth as his feet shot in and out of tires as he ran down the obstacle course. He thanked his commitment to aerobic and gymnastic training to keep his balance and precision. One trip on this course spelled disaster. After clearing the tires, he darted towards a rope climb where many of his peers have already started climbing. Scott led the pack, followed by Lance of the Brotherhood. Kurt and Piotr were close behind with Jason heading up the rear.<p>

Just as he was beginning to climb, Fred's pyknic form caught up and grabbed the ropes himself. As he hoisted himself up, the whole apparatus began to sag underneath his weight. Jason was half-way up when he felt a sinking sensation. He, along with other climbers, looked towards the ground. Jason's eyes dilated. "Oh, no…"

Fred's rope snapped at that moment, sending him to the ground. The bar at the top of the apparatus snapped back up like a branch, lashing the ropes violently. Jason lost his grip and fell to the ground, along with some others.

Piotr looked down. "Jason! Are you all right?"

Jason waved. "I'm okay! Just go, I'll catch up!"

Fred looked annoyed. "Easy for you to say, Scarhead."

Jason cast a mild glare at Fred as he stood up. "You can always try jumping up to the zip-line to catch up. Let me know how that turns out."

On the sidelines, the girls—awaiting their turn on the course—had watched all that had befallen the guys at the ropes. Rogue smirked. "Who did not see that coming?"

"Guess they ran out of the heavy-duty rope at the hardware store," Kitty said.

"Come on, girls," Jean said. "Just because we're not friends with Fred, that doesn't give us the right to make fun of him."

"You would totally say that, Jean," Kitty said.

Taryn, standing next to Jean, added, "Yeah, we all heard about what that loser tried to do to you, Jean. I'm surprised you didn't call the police on him."

Jean replied, "It was just a misunderstanding, Taryn. After I made my point, he stopped bothering me."

Alison flecked a stray lock of her golden hair from her face. "Yeah, I can't believe that happened during the auditions…or even at the school!"

Jean looked at Alison. "We really shouldn't be surprised anymore, Alison. Schools aren't exactly all that safe anymore."

Taryn shivered a bit. "Don't remind me, Jean. I've been watching the news too and it's freaky."

Alison agreed. "You don't have to tell me twice. It could have gotten a lot worse, but you did great in my books, Jean."

Rogue and Kitty looked at each other, a knowing look in their eye. The story that ran around the school regarding what happened between Jean and Fred back in September was quite interesting. Everyone simply believed that Fred and Jean had an argument after Jean refused Fred's less than subtle offer to go out. The details were mainly lost, but the result was clear: Jean gave Fred her refusal in the form of a kick in the _cajones_ and walked on. Rogue and Kitty along with the rest of the Institute knew the truth, but thanks to some mental encouragement from the Professor, they covered up what happened that day.

Meanwhile, Scott and Lance had reached the top of the climbing ropes where the zip-lines were attached and zipped away. Lance took an early lead, but Scott crawled ahead as he strategically angled his dangling body to heighten his momentum and lessen his air resistance. Quickly, they reached the end of the line and dropped down to the ground, only several a small run towards a large nearby pond. On the banks sat a line of inflatable rafts, ready for use. Scott reached on a half-second before Lance did. While he undid the lines, Lance leered at Scott. "You swim, Summers?"

One of Scott's eyebrows shot up in confusion. "Why?"

"No reason." Lance held out a hand.

Scott suddenly felt the earth underneath him shake violently, and then slide into the lake taking him with it. Lance took the opportunity to hop into the raft and row himself away. "Look like you can!" he called back behind him. "Total bummer!"

As Scott struggled to get back to shore, Jason and Piotr was the next to reach the boats. Jason had seen Scott slide into the lake, and guessed what happened. "That son of a bitch!"

Even Piotr looked upset. "_Etot proklyatyy moshennik!_"

"You said a mouthful, Peter," Jason replied.

By then the girls caught up. Jean saw Scott floundering in the water trying to get back to shore. "What just happened?"

Jason shot a hand towards Lance's raft, now half-way across. "Lance happened! The damn cheater just slid Scott into the drink!"

Jean's olive eyes narrowed in frustration, but she kept a level head. "Well, Scott is our leader and he can handle it."

"I do not mean to interrupt, but Scott should be in raft by now, _da_?"

While Jean looked strangely at Piotr, Jason looked back at the water, a growling look of perplexity growing on his scarred face. "More importantly, shouldn't his head be _above_ water?"

Meanwhile, Lance was taking full advantage of the lead he stole from Scott after his little rockslide. Paddling as hard as he could, he could see the finish line right head on the far shore. Lance allowed himself the luxury of a smile; this was going to chap Summers' hide more than a tanner ever could.

At that moment, something blasted the raft from behind, sending the raft and Lance into the lake. Just before his head hit the water though, Lance glimpsed a reddish glow.

Back on the shore, Jean, Jason, Piotr as well as some of the others saw Lance's raft flip, as well as what caused it.

"You were saying, Jean?" Jason asked.

Jean sighed resignedly.

While this happened, Scott boarded his own raft and paddled as hard as he could. As he passed by an adrift Lance, he couldn't help but call, "Kind of stinks being in the _water_, doesn't it? That must really chap your hide."

Lance looked absolutely livid, but Scott was right. His powers had no effect in the water because of its shock-absorbent properties. All he could do was float and sputter. Scott reached the other shore, leaping out of his raft and took off for the finish line at a sprint. He could hear his peers cheering him on as he did. What he didn't see was the condescending glare aimed for his back from Jean's narrowed eyes. Jason, standing beside her, could tell that the only thing stopping a telekinetic kick on the butt was the mutually agreed pact to use no powers. On the other hand, Scott did just break it himself, so…

His thoughts were interrupted as Fred lumbered up to them. "That loser Scott cheated to win that race and you know it!"

Pietro joined in. "Yeah, just because he slipped into the bath, he goes all ballistic! So much for the Junior Commander."

Kurt shot a glare at Pietro. "Slipped? More like 'avalanched!'"

Jason nearly laughed at Pietro's argument. "Puh-leeze, Pietro! _You_ of all people are complaining about fair play? You wouldn't know a fair play if it hit you in the teeth!"

Todd shot off his own retort. "He stole that first place spot and you know it!"

Kitty shot back. "He did not!"

"What do you want, Stinkpot, a ribbon?" Rogue pointed at Todd. "How 'bout I find one and pin it to your forehead?"

The two rivaling factions descended into a full-fledged argument. As the arguments and insults flew, Sgt. Hawke was on his way back from the other side of the lake when he caught sight of the argument from afar. _"There's always a few…"_ he thought annoyed. He popped his whistle into his mouth and blew its shrill note.

* * *

><p><em>A few moments later…<em>

"Fifty-eight…fifty-nine…sixty!" the students chanted as they rose and fell on their hands.

Upon reaching the goal, many of the students collapsed as their arms felt like jelly about enduring five dozen push-ups. Sgt. Hawke made all the arguing students—along with Scott—do so many pushups as retribution for arguing. Satisfied, he barked. "On your feet, troopers! Stand at attention!"

Groaning as the lactic acid began burning their biceps and triceps, the students climbed rather stiffly to their feet. Once they all stood erect, Sgt. Hawke looked scrutinizingly at the lot of them. "Here at Ironback Survival Camp, we have ways to weed out the loud-mouths from the tough-guys. We fight it out in the wilderness _against_ the wilderness." Leaning in towards Scott, he continued. "You all want to prove how tough you really are, fine! You get to run the final course of the training as you all seem so eager to try."

Turning around, he pointed to a lone mountain only a few kilometers away. They had all been training in its shadow. "Up on top of Frost Mountain is a flag. You will divide into two teams and will race each other to the top of the mountain."

Pietro stepped out of line. "Cool! My team can take a sauna. I'll get it myself!"

"Not if I beat you there!" Kurt replied.

Jason's brow furrowed incredulously. _"Are these two really serious about this?"_

"Back in line, you two, or it's another sixty for all of you!" Sgt. Hawke snapped. "It's the whole team or no one! As proof, you must bring back a snapshot of the entire team on the top of Frost Mountain. If there is one single missing teammate, it's invalid! Am I clear?!"

"Sir, yes sir!" All of them barked back.

"You will disembark in two hours. Be ready! Dismissed!"

While some of the members of both teams began to disperse, Lance shot Scott a warning. "You heard him, _Sumner_. Be ready…because you ain't coming back."

Scott spun back to face Lance. "Is that a threat, rock-tumbler? Because I have one of my own!" Scott reached for his shades.

"Scott!" Jean cried. "What are you doing?!"

"Yeah, what the hell, man?" Jason said, crossing his arms.

"What?" Scott said obliviously. "It's nothing! I'm just fed up with these delinquents getting away with everything while we're stuck playing by the rules!"

Jean opened her mouth to speak, but Lance interrupted her. "Oh yeah? We don't need out powers to beat you guys!"

"Oh, fine then! We'll all play it straight and then we'll wave to you from the top!" Scott said, leaving the group, as did Lance.

"Good!" Jean said, relieved. "That's the deal then; we'll all play fairly! No powers whatsoever! And I have to say I'm very proud of you—"

"Uh, Jean?" Jason cut in. "They left already."

Jean looked around and saw that Scott and Lance had indeed parted ways. "Oh…well that was rude."

Jason let his head fall back, a bemused smile on his face.

Jean noticed. "What?"

"Oh, just thinking." Jason looked back at Jean. "So _now_ you'll play fair?"

"Oh, shut up, Jason."

* * *

><p><em>Xavier Institute for Gifted Children – 3:06 PM<em>

Deep inside the Institute was a globular room with a single pathway reaching into its center. In this center sat Professor Xavier, wearing a peculiar device on his head. To anyone else had they be in the room, they would have seen nothing but the paneling of the globular room. To the Professor however, he was seeing the world in hues of blue and red. Every time he used Cerebro to look upon the world, he could see the dots of red growing more and more numerous, almost like a rash, but he would never use that comparison. Mutants were multiplying, their numbers getting close to the millions.

Mutant existence around the world was making the government in America very nervous. While nothing was ever decided, paranoia about the idea that there were mutants in hiding on American soil was almost too much for some politicians. Despite that, no official action has ever been made, and with S.H.I.E.L.D. ever watching the country and whatever threatened it, nothing could gain steam enough in the government regarding mutants. For that, the Professor was truly thankful.

Yet he knew he was clinging onto a fragile hope. One day, very soon, mutants in the country would be exposed, and the reaction would be explosive. That was one reason why he created this Institute, both as a means of education and as a shelter. For now, it was mainly barren of students, but when the time came, it would be brimming with them. Before that happened, there was a matter of creating a team of peacekeepers that would double as role-models for future students. He had already brought Logan and Storm into the fold, but they were brought in to be teachers. What he needed were peers, someone others would relate to but also look up to.

The first was Scott Summers, whom when he found him, he was sitting in a ruined home with a blindfold tightly bound over his eyes. Next was Jean, so scared and so confused inside the walls of a mental institute.

One by one, the team grew with Kurt—cloaked in both fabric and shame from his appearance—and then Kitty and Rogue, each one bearing heartache of his or her own. Under his tutelage, they assembled to become the X-Men. And that number was due to grow. There was just a matter of smoothing out some rough edges.

The doors slid open behind the Professor, permitting the entry of the short but stocky Logan. Logan was carrying one of his trademark cigars as he walked on in, raising it into his mouth.

"Logan, my tolerance for smoking those things in the mansion notwithstanding, if you attempt to smoke that in here, you will spend the rest of your days thinking you are a six-year-old girl."

Logan froze, and then lowered the cigar from his mouth. "You'd do that, Chuck?"

The Professor removed the device from his head. "I'm sure Jean and some others would love to braid your hair."

"Hmph," Logan replied, and then looked at the readouts made by Cerebro. "Find anyone new we can reach?"

"Just our students up at Ironback. They seem to be a bit active."

Logan's brow sank. "Didn't you tell them not to use their powers?"

"I have not actually," the Professor turned to face Logan. "I had left that decision to them, and I hear they mutually agreed to not use them. I'm guessing something happened to rescind that, but I don't know what as of yet."

"I still think you should have let me train them in survival." Logan crossed his arms.

"I gave them the choice Logan: with you or at Ironback." A bemused expression etched across his face. "They seemed to believe they had better odds surviving the camp."

Logan didn't answer, but the look on his face spelled everything.

A light began blinking on the controls, attracting the attention of both men. The Professor seemed the most interested. "That's odd. That's a high priority channel. Only our students and a few others know that frequency."

"That sounds bad," Logan growled.

"Yes, it does." Pressing a button on the control board, he responded. "This is Professor Charles Xavier."

"_You should already know who this is, Professor. I expect you would, anyway."_

Logan's eyes narrowed in recognition. "Fury…"

The Professor raised a hand towards Logan, and answered. "Colonel Fury, I shouldn't have to remind you that I do not infiltrate people's minds, as you put it, without consent."

"_And I shouldn't have to remind you that I believe that as much as I believe anything else that comes my way."_

"In other words, he doesn't…entirely," Logan said, crossing his arms.

"_But that's not why I'm calling. You have a big problem heading your way, Professor."_

The Professor was instantly concerned. "What happened?"

"_There was an escape from Stokes Max-Sec up state. I don't think you need to read my mind on whom I'm talking about."_

The Professor froze. He knew exactly whom Colonel Fury was referring to. "My step-brother."

Logan, who was content to listen in silence, had to ask, "Who's that?"

The Professor didn't answer Logan, but merely responded to Fury. "How did he get out?"

"_We're still trying to figure that out, but it was no accident, Charles. It was someone who knew where he was and knew how to get him out. I know you have enemies, Charles, and how many are close at hand. Don't think I don't know about a certain mutant running the local high school."_

The Professor was familiar with this game. Colonel Fury often had enough leverage to push him into an uncomfortable situation. It was a lot like playing chess with an old friend. Logan on the other hand was seething; he knew enough about the Colonel to know when he just made a veiled threat. He would have to remember to ask about how much Logan knew the Colonel later. "I never thought otherwise, Colonel. I also realize that you know that you also assume she is responsible for the escape of my half-brother, a suspicion I will not be quick to refute. I also hope that you realize that if you intended to storm the school to arrest her, you would not only alert her, but risk the revelation of mutant-kind in New York City. That is something you and I both do not want."

There was a pause on the line. The Professor had just made his retaliatory move against him and patiently waited Fury's next move.

Finally, he responded. _"We have one man on the field attempting to delay him. Do what you need to, Professor and fast."_

The line was severed and the Professor relaxed. Logan sighed. "He never changes." Looking at the Professor, he asked. "So, who's your half-brother and why is it going to be a problem?"

The Professor began typing on the keyboard. "His name is Cain Marko, the son of my step-father. He is also a mutant." Pressing ENTER, he pulled up an archived file.

_Name: Cain Marko  
><em>_Age: 59  
><em>_Height: 9'5"  
><em>_Weight: 1900 lbs._

_Enhanced genetic anomaly confirmed_

Logan seemed passive in the face of the stats, yet he noticed something. "What's an 'enhanced genetic anomaly'?"

The Professor folded his hands. "My brother was born with the X-Gene like the rest of us, but it remained dormant for much of his life. After he left the family, he went on an expedition and discovered an ancient artifact. He used it to awaken his powers through mysticism."

Logan looked at the profile again. "Looks like quite a handful, Chuck. What kind of powers are we talking about here?"

"His size is the precursor to them. He is a juggernaut; invulnerable, unstoppable. Coupled with an already violent temper, he is one of the most dangerous men to walk the earth."

Logan's eyes narrowed. "And what does he have to do with you, besides being your step-brother?"

The Professor folded his hands. "He has always been very resentful of me, almost from the very beginning. My step-father married my mother, and ever since then he favored me since I was the heir to the family estate, this Institute. I was hoping it wasn't so, but all he really wanted was the fortune and little else. My mother was wise enough to keep him from it, but just the same, my step-father would stop at nothing to gain her favor, mainly through me."

The Professor turned to leave and Logan followed him. "Cain and I rarely got along, but the fault—to my step-father—would always land on Cain. I never saw anything, but I was so sure that my step-father abused Cain behind closed doors. That transformed into a hatred for me that lasted even into adulthood. When he found that artifact, his hatred had transformed into unspeakable rage.

"There was nothing we could say to dissuade him. Ultimately, I had to make a terrible choice. Cain needed to be…restrained. With the help of Dr. Reed Richards from the Baxter Building, we were able to produce a paralyzing chemical that would hold even the likes of Cain. Combined with a specialized holding cell, we were finally able to contain him." The Professor's countenance turned mournful. "My greatest regret is that I feel that there was some other way."

Logan's eyes grew distant, as he tried to come up with a plan to try to take this Cain Marko down. "You said he was unstoppable."

"Yes, I did. As it turns out, he has two weaknesses: he is vulnerable to all psychic and mystical energies. That's how I was able to stop him before to contain him. With enough psychic blasts, I can immobilize him…unless he is wearing his helmet."

"Well, if he is, then I'll just have to rip it off."

The Professor regarded Logan. "Logan, you will need help. I'm not even sure your adamantium claws can challenge him."

Logan began walking away. "Yeah? Well, I've always been a gambling man." Turning back, he said, "I'm going after him. If anything, I plan to make him work for every step here." With that, he took off.

The Professor watched him go with a growing apprehension. Logan barely had a glimmer of an idea of what he was up against. Cain was the living embodiment of rage and strength; it would take more than claws to take him down. He needed help.

He needed the X-Men.

Placing his fingers on his temples, he called. _"Storm, prep the X-Jet. We must head north."_

He could hear her gentle mental voice. _"Right away, Professor."_

The Professor let his hands down and made his way for the hanger. Logan would need reinforcements, and there was only one place to get them.

* * *

><p>"Come on, let's pick it up!" Scott shouted, turning back towards those following him. "We're almost at the base, and we should have been there by now!"<p>

"We're hurrying, Scott!" came Kitty's response.

Scott turned back towards the mountain and began to sprint for it. They were only a half-hour into this venture and Scott had been pushing them to run all the way.

Rogue could feel the muscles in her ribs tighten and smart. "What's with Mr. Marathon?" she panted as she ran. "He's worse than Sergeant Hawke!"

Kitty was only a few meters behind her. "All he cares about is winning this thing, even if we're like half-dead when we get there, you know." Looking beside her, she espied Kurt keeping pace with her. "Hey, Kurt! Why don't you make yourself useful and like teleport us to the top?"

"This trip is of the power-free variety, I'm told," Kurt panted. "But I am considering proposing an amendment to that rule."

Jean ran up between them. "Come on, guys, we'll be fine. Let's just follow Scott's lead on this and we'll make it. You'll see."

Further behind was Bobby, who had been warring with a group of mosquitoes that seem hell-bent on sucking him dry. Swatting at them, he complained, "These mosquitoes are like seagulls, and just as pesky! There weren't any bugs like this back in my home in Boston!"

Jason ran up from behind, making his way past him. "That's why God invented bug repellant, Bobby. Now come on! Stop swatting at the bugs and run! They can't keep up unless you let them!"

Piotr was the last of the group, panting himself. He might have been strong, but his endurance in running was not up to par. "_Chert vozʹmi_, how far is mountain?"

Jason, looking back and noticing Piotr falling behind, slowed his pace to allow Piotr to catch up. "Another two-hundred yards to the base, I think. Come on, once we're there we can breathe a bit."

"I hope so…I cannot run that far. How can you?"

Jason panted, "I exercise back at the gym back at the Institute, but mainly in aerobics and flexibility. That builds my endurance; you have to have good endurance if you're going to be as nimble as I am. You mainly lift weights, and while that builds strength, it doesn't do much for stamina. Maybe when we get back, I'll show you a few exercises you can try."

"But you still must be tired," Piotr reasoned.

"Oh, trust me. I'm going to feel this tomorrow," Jason said, wincing at the thought of lactic acid searing his muscles as he slept. "And I know I'm going to think that if I didn't talk to the Professor about my issues, I wouldn't be here…"

Piotr looked strangely at Jason as he made that statement, but kept his silence beyond his panting. Was this training exercise really going to make Jason regret sharing his feelings to the Professor?

Jason continued, "…and a little bit after that, I'll kick myself for even thinking that."

Unnoticed by Jason, Piotr sighed in relief in between his gasps.

Jason moaned, "But I'm definitely not looking forward to tomorrow. You might have to carry me, Peter."

Piotr smiled. "Oh, I will not mind…" Instantly reddening, he realized what that sounded like and noticed Jason looking at him with a strange look. "Uh—I mean—"

Jason interrupted. "We'll talk later; right now, let's catch up before Scott decides to run back and push us himself."

Piotr nodded quickly, "Yes." Swallowing, he refocused his mind back on the trail, all the while kicking himself for saying something stupid.

* * *

><p>Toad flung himself up each cranny that would hold him on the cliff-side. Rock climbing was a piece of cake for someone who had an adhesive-like grip and a spectacular leaping ability. He was thankful he had it; the path they took to get to the mountain lead to a cliff with no visible pathways to get around and up it. If they were going to stay in the game, they needed to surmount this cliff and fast. Needless to say, the only way they could do that was using their powers.<p>

Toad was over half-way up when he looked down and saw Blob lagging behind. "What's taken you guys so long?" he called down.

Lance, keeping a firm hold of the rope wrapped around his waist, called back. "Shut up, Toad, and keep going! If you see the X-Losers, tell us!"

Pietro, hanging right beside Lance to a different rope of the same configuration, quipped. "Dude, this is probably the best _and_ worst idea you ever had!" Looking up—although he couldn't help but do that—he remarked. "If he slips and falls, we are history! Death by blubber-bomb, I'm telling you!""

Just above Lance and Pietro was Fred, slowly and meticulously, climbing the cliff by making footholds with his hands and feet as he climbed. A thick rope was tied around his waist and on either end of that rope dangled Lance and Pietro. Considering that the cliff slope was nearly perfectly perpendicular with the ground, Pietro felt his fears were well-merited.

"Fastest way to the top is a straight line, Pietro," Lance said matter-of-factly. "We aren't going to lose to the X-Losers _this_ time. We are winning this thing, make no mistake!"

"Geez, the things we have to do for the Boss-Lady. Whatever she's doing better be good or else I might give her a supersonic kick in the butt!"

Lance smirked. "I'd pay to see you try, Pietro. And pay attention! All we have to do is keep the X-Men here occupied long enough for her to do whatever the hell she's doing. This race is the perfect thing!"

"Yeah, yeah, whatever," Pietro quipped. "Let's just make sure we win this thing so we can rub it into those proud faces of theirs."

"Don't you worry; we're going to win!"

* * *

><p>The air was clear and crisp as the sun slowly traveled west to rest, seemingly but blissfully unaware of the brewing strife approaching the boiling point. The Hudson River Valley that connected the Catskills to the megalopolis to its southeast was peaceful as the trees had long since changed colors and now were shedding them for the approaching winter winds.<p>

Overhead, Iron Man seared across the near cloudless day, the sun's rays harshly reflecting his red-and-gold armor. The blue-lit eyes of the armor scanned the area up and down looking for his target. Finding nothing, Iron Man said, his voice distorted by a synthesized buzz, _"You'd think finding a guy with his description would be easy. Booking the twins last December was easier than this."_

"_A most charming choice of metaphor, if I dare say so, sir,"_ replied the computer voice of JARVIS. _"Scanners do not depict the individual provided by S.H.I.E.L.D. within the vicinity. It is too difficult to pinpoint a particular individual as the area is still relatively populated."_

Despite the helmet being unable to depict emotion, it was clear Tony was concerned. _"This guy can't be that hard to find. He moves fast and is bigger than Iron Monger. Keep scanning."_

"_Without a proper genetic profile of the subject, my readings will be identical to the last several attempts unless by pure happenstance the subject ventures within the inner 33.3 repeating percentage of my scanning domain."_

Iron Man was well aware of this fact already. _"JARVIS, in this line of work, luck is a bigger factor than even I'm comfortable with."_

"_And I shall forever question the infatuation with such an abstract concept." _

"_It's a human thing, JARVIS." _

"_Which to many is analogous to foolhardy."_

Tony bit his tongue. When you're right…

JARVIS spoke up. _"Alert! Unknown meteorological anomaly detected!"_

That surprised Iron Man. _"Explain."_

"_Anomaly developed 25.6 kilometers bearing 211 degrees, accelerating at a heading of 12 degrees at an estimated 326 kilometers per hour."_

Iron Man barely had time to look towards the southwest when he saw a black dot on the horizon searing through the air very quickly, leaving behind what looked like a building thickening cloud behind it. That was odd; if there was residue left behind by whatever aircraft passing by, it would soon dissipate as the gas molecules scattered. Whatever cloud this jet was leaving behind, it was doing the very opposite.

"_JARVIS, identify the bogie."_

"_Already done, sir. Preliminary readings suggest the subject is a supersonic jet of a similar design of the _Lockheed SR-71 Blackbird_ aircraft, a design retired thirteen years ago."_

"_What do other readings say?"_

"_This particular model has seen extensive design overhaul, including but not limited to expanded cabin, removal of weapon systems, reorganization of primary engine systems, et cetera. I could not receive any IFF transponder. It is possible the aircraft wishes to remain undetected."_

"_Too late for that. I'm initiating pursuit. You keep scanning for our primary target and get me a line for this bogey. I want to know what exactly it is doing and what it is seeding."_

"_Acknowledged."_

Iron Man twisted around, his flight stabilizers flashing as he shot away to intercept, shattering the sound barrier in a manner of seconds.

* * *

><p><em>A few moments earlier…<em>

The Professor and Storm raced towards the survival campgrounds in the Blackbird. Both of them knew that Juggernaut was stomping his way south, hundreds of feet beneath them. It was a race against time; the closer Juggernaut got closer to the metropolis, the harder and more desperate the battle to take him down would be. The Professor wasn't going to risk Juggernaut entering the city. Not only would he do an immense amount of damage, but his actions would easily implicate mutants for the world to see. Juggernaut needed to be stopped and now.

"We're approaching the first set of coordinates, Professor," Storm reported.

"Excellent," the Professor replied. "Do it."

Storm nodded, and pressed a button on the console. "Autopilot engaged."

Unbuckling the harness, Storm rose up from her seat and strode for a panel on the floor. The Professor looked back to watch Storm buckle herself into a support beam. "I'm ready, Professor."

The Professor nodded. "Raising the platform in three…two…one…" The Professor pulled a lever on the board.

Storm rose upwards, just as a door on the ceiling slid open with a hydraulic hiss. In moments, Storm stood tall on the surface of the Blackbird. Any other person would have been ripped to shreds from the wind chop, but not Storm. Being a maestro of meteorological phenomena had its perks. Closing her eyes, she held out her arms, summoning the clouds to gather around her. Instantly, a wave of fog splashed over the countryside like the waves on the beach, casting the land in a nebula of mist. The X-Jet made a few passes over the landscape, casting more opacity upon the mist as it passed by.

Storm descended back into the cockpit, satisfied that the fog she just conjured would be sufficient. The Professor said to her, "Excellent work, Storm. While this won't deter Cain, it should hamper any effort by the authorities to capture him."

"We should hurry," Storm replied. "Your brother is progressing all too quickly towards the city. Wolverine won't be able to delay him for long." Storm suddenly looked worried. "Charles, are you sure about this?"

The Professor's face mirrored Storm's. "I believe you already know the answer to that question, and I share your concerns…but I feel we have no choice."

"They are only children, Charles. Yes, we have trained them, but they have never faced anything like this before. Charles…they could die."

"I know, Storm. This weighs heavily on me, but this is a responsibility to willfully shouldered when I organized the X-Men for the first time. They are my students; I am responsible for whatever befalls them. I only trust they knew the same when they agreed."

"I believe Scott, Logan and Jean do, and perhaps Rogue and Piotr, but I'm not so sure about Kitty and Kurt. Moreover, Jason and Bobby are with them. They will want to help, regardless of the danger. Professor, Jason has only been here three months and Bobby a couple more than that. They are not ready."

The Professor folded his hands together. "Can anyone for this?"

A beeping on the console interrupted both of them, both pairs of eyes locked onto the offending console. Storm brought up the readouts. "We have someone coming to intercept us…and fast…and small."

The Professor checked the readouts. "We're in stealth mode. Nothing should be able to track us."

"We can tell it that when it catches us. It's almost on top of us."

Suddenly, the comms buzzed to life. _"Listen, I'm no flight coordinator but I don't recall any SR-71 Blackbirds still in service. How about you do us a favor and tell me who you are?"_

The Professor and Storm looked at each other, their minds digesting the complete lack of propriety coming from their interceptor. The Professor cautiously pressed comm-link button. "I'm Professor Charles Xavier of the Xavier Institute for Gifted Children. Might I ask who you are?"

"_Professor Xavier? Oh, yes, I've heard about you; didn't hear about a jet though. Oh, well, I have my own ride."_

Before the Professor and Storm could get even more perplexed, something flew in front of them, leaving its own vapor trail. The Professor caught a glimpse of it. It appeared to be a humanoid robot, red and gold, flying using thrusters in the feet and stabilizers in the hands. The red and gold design was the tip-off. The Professor smiled and responded. "And I see it's quite one of a kind, Mr. Stark…or should I say 'Iron Man'?"

"_What can I say? I never go for the mass-produced model."_ A pause._ "As much as I'm enjoying this conversation by air, any chance I can board?"_

"There's a hatch on the top of the fuselage. It's safe to open during flight."

Soon enough, Iron Man descended through the hatch and joined the Professor and Storm inside the X-Jet. The mask retracted, revealing Tony's face, his mouth framed by a thin goatee.

The Professor turned to address Tony. "Greetings, Mr. Stark. I must admit, this isn't how I usually welcome guests."

Tony grinned ever so slightly. "Never been one for traditionalism either."

"It's a pleasure, Mr. Stark," greeted Storm.

There was the slightest of pauses coupled with the slightest of twinkles in Stark's eyes as he acknowledged Storm. "The pleasure is all mine, Miss…"

"Munroe, but you may call me Storm."

Tony blinked. "That's a rather violent name, don't you think? Could you have gone with something softer?"

The corners of Storm's mouth twitched in amusement. "It tells of my nature."

The Professor looked bemused. He was aware that Mr. Stark possessed a particular proclivity involving the female sex, a fact he telepathically shared with Storm. "I'm aware of your connections to S.H.I.E.L.D., Mr. Stark, and it doesn't take much of a stretch of the imagination to surmise that you are searching for my step-brother."

Tony looked back at the Professor, as if distracted. "You'd be right, and haven't had much luck. You'd think someone like him would stick out like a mole on a French model."

The Professor's brow sank. "Cain is not secretive by any stretch of the imagination. If something is in his way, he will simply remove it, not wait for it to pass by. He will leave a trail of destruction that is easy to follow."

"Undoubtedly; Fury told me about the police barricade. I've seen worse, but still…"

"I wish it weren't so, but his hatred of me is far too rooted into his mind to be considerate of innocent bystanders."

"Don't worry, Professor. I'm not about to let him get too far. Finding him is the hard part, the rest should be simpler."

"Mr. Stark, Cain is probably the strongest man on the planet that we know of. Don't take him lightly."

"Can he fly?" Tony asked simply.

The Professor was taken mildly aback at this question. "Well…no…"

The helmet slapped shut over Tony's face. _"That's something. I'll let myself out. Have a safe flight." _He turned to Storm one last time. _"I hope we meet again." _Tony lifted off through the hatch and blasted away, a sonic boom heralding his departure.

"He's awfully confident," Storm said.

"He is," the Professor agreed. "I hope his confidence is on par with his resourcefulness."

* * *

><p>"Hey!" Lance called up, dangling from the end of his rope. "A little help here?"<p>

"Yeah, like now!" Pietro added.

As if on command, both felt themselves yanked up quite sorely up the face of the cliff. Both belted out grunts and groans as they found themselves dragged along the rock, skinning any part of the flesh unfortunate to meet the rock. Finally, they emerged on the cliff-top, and saw Fred pulling them up roughly. Frantically, both Lance and Pietro began untying the ropes that dragged them up here to begin with.

"Ok, I made up my mind," Pietro quipped. "That was the worst idea you came up with."

Lance's eyes narrowed crossly. "It got us up here, didn't it? Now shut up and get ready for the next part." Looking at Fred, he said. "Now where's Toad?"

"In there," Fred said as he pointed.

Pietro and Lance looked to see an opening in the mountain just in front of them. From the appearance of wooden support beams, it used to be some kind of mine. "A mine?" Pietro exclaimed. "What a stupid place to put one!"

Lance rolled his eyes. "What's he doing in there?"

"Checking for a shortcut," Fred said.

Lance sniffed. "Finally, he's doing something worthwhile. I always wondered what Mystique saw in him."

"Who cares?" Pietro said. "Let's go without him! Those X-Geeks are probably half-way up the mountain already! He's just slowing us down!"

"Chill, Pietro!" Lance said. "You heard the Sarge: the whole team or no one. We're not losing to the X-Geeks because we decided to leave the dumb one behind."

"Who are you calling 'the dumb one'?" came a voice from the abandoned mine.

All snapped their gazes around to see Todd leaping into site from the darkness of the mine. Fred spoke up. "Did you find anything?"

"Yep! Found a nice little ladder that goes straight up to an opening, just like that."

Lance grinned. "Now you're talking! Let's go, guys! That flag is officially ours!"

With a cheer, all of the Brotherhood boys charged into the mines. Had they stopped or slowed their charge, they might have seen a broken sign lying nearby that spelled "DANGER: KEEP OUT."

* * *

><p>The light reflected red off of Scott's shades as he squinted in the mid-afternoon light. They had come to the end of their mountain trail and Scott was gazing up the mountainside, trying to find any hint of the flag. However, the sun was making it very difficult to see anything, let alone a flag.<p>

"See the flag?" Kurt said.

Scott shook his head. "No, the sun's too bright. Pop up top and then back down and tell me."

Kurt looked hesitant, biting his lip. "Oh, I don't know." Looking back, he saw the rest working their tired way towards them, heading by Jean. "What about Jean? We did promise that we—"

"Hey, do you want to win this thing or not?" Scott interrupted.

Kurt bit his lip harder as his conscious and his junior commander's urging warred. Looking back at Jean one more time, he sighed. "Ok, fine. But she's not going to like this, I warn you." In a flash of smoke, Kurt disappeared.

Scott turned to look at the others about to join them. All looked beat from the long run to this part of the trail. Scott knew he was pushing them really hard, but maybe they'll forgive him once they won this race. As he thought about it, a rock settled in on his stomach as he remembered Jean confronting him earlier about the use—or rather abuse—of power at the lake. Perhaps she didn't see Kurt port just yet.

Kurt reappeared in a flash of smoke. "It's there. We're very close…and no sign of the enemy." Kurt said the last part as if he was a bit surprised about it.

"Forget the details." Espying Jason towards the back, he called. "Hey, Jason! Come here a sec?"

Jason looked up, surprised that Scott would call to him. Looking at Piotr briefly, he made his way towards Scott. "What is it?"

"Need a favor. Transmute a spike so we can throw it up so we can climb."

Jason's shoulders sagged as his brow furrowed. "Are you kidding me?"

"What?"

"We said we wouldn't use our powers!"

Thinking since it worked last time, Scott tried the same tactic with Jason. "Come on, don't you want to win?"

Jason's brow sunk. "That's not my point!" He removed the small backpack he bore. "Not that you're going to listen to me, but I'm not going to help you cheat."

"It's not…cheating!" Scott automatically protested, but he didn't sound convinced of it himself.

Jason made a knowing but annoyed look, but didn't answer Scott as he removed a rappelling rope with a hook from his bag. "Jean, have any ideas how to climb this cliff?"

Scott chafed as Jason and Jean began talking about how to safely scale the cliff. Leave it to Jason to be the Boy Scout when it comes to doing things properly. As soon as he thought that, a voice in his head reprimanded him for even thinking that. He himself was often anal for following procedure; it was Logan that would play fast and loose with accepted strategy. Why should he be scornful of Jason for just holding up to his promises? Why wasn't he himself holding up to his promises?

As he looked at Jason and Jean, he spotted Jean looking at him with a very knowing look. Scott kicked himself; he wasn't going to hear the end of this one anytime soon.

* * *

><p>The land was drowning in the opaque veils of fog, so thick that even light becomes lost in the white folds. The fog seemed to also dampen the very sounds of the world as one lone traveler stormed off on a path; unseen to all but him for it was his warpath. Juggernaut chafed as he had to slow himself down because he couldn't see where he was going. The fog came in so thick and fast that it had to be unnatural, not to mention that the sun had been high in the sky for quite some time now. Any normal fog would have long since dissipated, he reasoned. There was only one explanation: his brother had allied himself with someone who could control the weather. Ha! Was his brother so desperate that he had to resort to fog to stop the Juggernaut? What a laugh.<p>

A rustle in the brush caught in his attention. Snapping his head to meet it, it quieted as soon as his eyes locked onto it. Stopping in his tracks, Juggernaut took in his surroundings. For a while now, he'd been getting a growing feeling that someone or something was tracking him, but it was doing well to stay out of sight. Juggernaut scowled; something else wanted to get in his way. He was sure he could easily swat it aside, but it still annoyed him. A lot of things did.

Suddenly from his side sprung a man, yelling savagely with claws. Juggernaut spun around and swatted him aside. The man rebounded to his feet, teeth bared and three long metal claws protruding from his fists. He was dressed in a black-and-orange suit, coupled with a cowl that made him look like a wildcat. Juggernaut glowered down at him; the guy wasn't even half his size. "You're making the worst mistake in your life, small fry!"

"No," the man—Wolverine—growled. "You're making the mistake that you can just swipe me aside like that!"

"You can't stop the Juggernaut!"

"Forgive me for trying, bub!" With a yell, Wolverine charged.

Juggernaut ducked down, and charged himself. Wolverine's body met inertia personified, and was sent flying like a bowling pin. Wolverine slammed into a tree, all the wind knocked out of him. As he struggled to pick himself up, Juggernaut came up and picked him up himself. Twisting around, Juggernaut hurled Wolverine back across the ground, tumbling all the way.

"You have no idea who you are dealing with!" yelled Juggernaut.

Wolverine could feel his skin knit itself together as he picked himself up, ignoring the pain as his bruising organs healed. Working his way up to a crouch, he snarled. "Do _you_, bub?"

Juggernaut glared savagely. "I'll pound you into paste!" Yelling, he charged like a freight train.

Wolverine bared his claws like the animal's name he bore, and stood firm. Like a bull, Juggernaut ran at him. When he was on top of him, Wolverine leaped aside in a tornado of claws. They sliced across Juggernaut's arm like rakes, but they didn't cut. Despite that, Juggernaut felt it, and swatted his arm aside, but Wolverine had bounded away.

Wolverine looked annoyed. The Professor wasn't kidding; he _was_ hard to hurt. How was he going to take this guy down?

Before he had a chance to contemplate, Juggernaut spun around and charged at him. Wolverine braced for another attack. Suddenly, a blast of energy smashed into Juggernaut's face, causing him to stumble. Wolverine's gaze followed to the source of the blast, just as what looked like a robot descended into view.

"_Sorry I'm late; hard to find a good chardonnay this far north."_

Wolverine sniffed. "Yeah, well I've always been one for a beer, plain and simple, Stark."

"_Not to mention your love for cheap tobacco." _Iron Man peered at Juggernaut, who was climbing to his feet. _"Friend of yours?"_

"Whatever you say, bub."

Juggernaut's eyes narrowed fiercely as he saw Iron Man hover there. "Don't think that fancy armor of yours will stop me! I'm the Juggernaut!" Rounding to a nearby tree, he grabbed it and pulled it out of the ground. He twisted around and threw it towards the two.

Iron Man fired up his flight stabilizers and fired at the tree, shattering it into a flurry of lumber and leaves. Lowering his hands, he said, _"He seems nice."_

Juggernaut charged with a roar. Iron Man flashed away while Wolverine weaved around him and leaped on his back. At once, he saw two latches on his shoulders that kept his dome-like helmet attached. Suddenly, he felt his arm snatched up by a massive hand and the next thing he knew, he was flying head-over-heels into a tree.

Juggernaut barely recovered as Iron Man came roaring in at neck-breaking speeds, smashing into them with the force of a freight train. Juggernaut smashed into a nearby tree as Iron Man hovered a safe distance away, his eyes combing the massive brawler. The tree was shattered, but Juggernaut was completely unscathed. Roaring in rage, he sprang to his feet, grabbed the tree and heaved it at Iron Man, who effortlessly blasted it into mulch.

"_You know, the forest service is going to have kittens after they see this."_

"You talk big for a guy in armor! How about you come down and I'll show you how big you really are?!"

"_And miss this amazing view?"_ Iron Man quipped as he motioned to the fog.

Juggernaut may have been a brute, but he was not an idiot. Before he could move, he felt something leap onto his back once again. Snarling, he reached behind him and grabbed the offending pest and held it up high. "You think you can hurt me with those can openers of yours? I'm invincible!"

Iron Man landed on the ground. _"Put him down, Marko!"_

Juggernaut snarled. "You wanna make me?!"

Iron Man clenched his fist. _"As a matter of fact…JARVIS, reroute power to chest lens."_

"_Rerouting…"_ the AI responded.

The arc reactor in Iron Man's chest brightening severely, and fired a blast right into Juggernaut's face. Juggernaut fell backwards, sending Wolverine tumbling through the air and to the ground. Wolverine picked himself up and then shot a look at Iron Man. "Don't do that again."

"_You're welcome."_

Juggernaut threw himself back onto his feet almost instantly, none the worse for wear. "Try and try, but you can't stop me! I'm the Juggernaut!"

"_So I've heard."_

"Game for double-play, Stark?"

"_I prefer the fairer sex myself."_

The joke was not lost on Juggernaut's part. "You little pipsqueeks!" He roared and charged at him.

Iron Man instantly took the air just as Wolverine bounded to the side. Juggernaut charged past and rounded back around. Wolverine ducked underneath one swing, retaliating with clawed swipes at his exposed underarms. Invincible metal glided across unpierceable flesh but left no mark. Juggernaut swung his other fist, smashing into Wolverine and sending him flying. Suddenly, a stabilizer blast flashed right into Juggernaut's eyes, blinding him. Iron Man flew in and pummeled strength-enhanced fists into Juggernaut's gut.

Doubling over, Juggernaut felt the wind rush out of his lungs, despite not feeling pain. Following up on his advantage, Iron Man fired up his leg thrusters and shot into the sky, whipped around and then smashed into Juggernaut's back, knocking him off his feet.

Hovering back to the ground, Iron Man turned to see Wolverine getting back on his feet. The latter looked at him. "You make it look so easy, Stark…"

"_Perhaps if you played smart instead of mad, we'd get somewhere."_

Juggernaut clambered back to his feet and spun around. "Enough games! I will not be stopped! I CANNOT BE STOPPED!"

"You were saying?" Wolverine said.

"_I was about to ask when backup was coming."_

Wolverine shot his claws back out to brace for another round. "I was hoping yesterday." Wolverine didn't turn his glare away from Juggernaut, but his thoughts were shooting northwards. _"Any day now, Chuck…"_

* * *

><p>Toad led the charge through the mine, followed by Lance, Pietro and Fred. Stumbling through the darkness of the mine, they determinedly pressed on. However, they weren't without complaint.<p>

"Whose idea was this again?" Pietro said. "Oh, right. Frog-boy."

"I heard that, Pietro!" said Toad.

"Well, that's good. That's because I wanted you to hear it."

"Knock it off and keep going!" Lance barked.

"Who was the wise guy that forgot the flashlight?"

"Pietro, did you ever bite your tongue from talking too much?" Lance asked.

"Nope, my tongue is faster than my feet!"

The other three groaned.

"What?"

"Pietro, that's just…just…ah!" Lance cried out. "Never mind! Toad, are we getting closer?"

"It should be just around the next corner, now keep up or we'll lose for sure!" Toad reported.

After several more minutes of stumbling through the torn up earth of the mine tunnel floors, the Brotherhood soon espied light ahead. Mustering new energy, the four ran for the source and soon came upon the ladder Toad previously mentioned outside the mine. Lance looked up the shaft, and saw something wrong. The shaft mouth was nearly completely covered by rock.

"You slimy idiot!" Lance rounded on Toad, grabbing him by the collar and pinning him against the wall. "Did you think we could all fit through there? How stupid are you?!"

Toad looked sheepish. "Well, I—?"

"We probably lost the race because of you!" Lance kept going.

"Well…I was thinking…maybe you can shake it loose a bit? Maybe?" Toad shrugged.

Pietro interceded. "Yeah, come on, Lance. Drop the frog and shake things up a bit so it unclogs! No big deal, right?"

Lance glared at Pietro, but dropped Toad. "Fine, step back!" Looking up the shaft again, he reached out for it, and gritted his teeth. Nothing happened briefly, but all could hear the stones rattle under their feet as a deep rumble began to grow around them. Lance shut his eyes tightly, and the tremors grew.

Fred, who had been content to be silent at the moment, suddenly heard something else, louder than the rumble of the earth. Looking around, he tried to identify it. It sounded like creaking, only louder. He looked upwards to the ceiling, supported by thick wooden beams. There was a crack of wood and stone, and a crack slithered across the ceiling towards them.

"Ahh!" Fred cried out. "It's coming down!"

The others spun around, just in time to see dirt and rock rain from the ceiling. "Lance, what did you do?!" Pietro blurted out.

Suddenly, the ceiling collapsed on top of them as the mountain came down upon them. Their screams were drowned out by the cave-in burying them alive. Finally, it was over. Coughing, Toad looked around. "Wow, that was close. Man, we gotta get out of here."

The silence was his answer. Looking around, he couldn't see anybody. "Hey, Lance? Pietro? Fred?" Nothing. "Hey, this isn't funny. Stop playing around and let's get out of here." Still nothing. "Guys?"

A dreadful thought began permeating the gangly kid's mind. Could the cave-in have crushed the other guys? What would he do if he was alone now? Mystique would kill him, for sure. Where would be go?

Suddenly, the earth burst nearby. Shrieking like a girl, he jumped aside and spun around. "Fred!" he said. Before he could stop himself, he leaped towards the pyknic form of Fred Dukes and wrapped himself around Fred's thick neck. "Fred! You're alive!"

Fred grabbed Toad and pulled him off. "Get off my face, Toad!" Now relieved of the embarrassing embrace, he dug himself out of the rubble. "That's the last time any of us listen to your bright ideas, Toad."

Toad had rebounded himself after being thrown away by Fred, and then he realized there was more light in the shaft. Looking up, he saw the shaft was now clear. "Hey, it worked!"

"No thanks to you," came another voice. It was Lance. "Now get us out of here!"

Fred and Toad looked to see that Pietro was nearby as well. Despite being half-buried, they seemed to be unhurt. "Hey, you were the one that dropped a mountain on us!" Toad said.

"It was your idea!" Lance barked back.

"Will you two shut up?" Pietro snapped. "Fred, what are you waiting for, a sale for a hundred pounds of steak? Get us out of here!"

Fred dusted himself off. "Why is it always me that has to do the work? I'd like to see you do something yourself for a change."

Toad felt more obliged to stay back and out of the way. "Hey, maybe we were lucky and we buried the X-Geeks in an avalanche. That should make things easier."

"Finally," Pietro sighed. "Toad says something we can all agree on."

* * *

><p>Scott clambered up onto the ledge, ignoring the burning ache his arms bore from pulling himself up a rope half-way up the mountain. He had to admit: despite the others not using their powers, they didn't do too bad getting a rope up the mountain. Kurt had volunteered to take the lead—being the best climber—all the while protecting Jason's rappelling rope while Piotr belayed him from below. Kurt himself was now sitting quietly away from the cliff's edge, waiting for them.<p>

Scott glanced below to check on his teammates, all the while ignoring the dizzying height of the mountain. Jean was next in line, followed by Kitty, Rogue, Bobby, Piotr, and heading up the rear was Jason. For some reason, that struck him as odd. Jason was one of the most lumber of them all. Why be last?

Just as Jean clambered up onto the ledge herself, the mountainside began to shake. Surprised gasps of alarm floated up from below as loose rocks rolled down the mountain side.

Scott looked around, but knew what was going on. "Avalanche," he whispered to himself. He pulled Jean away from the ledge and shouted. "Hold on! Avalanche is trying to shake us loose!"

The five still on the rope clung onto the rope for dear life, eyes scoping the mountain for falling rocks or debris that threatened to knock them off. Kitty was only a few inches away from the top and was trying slowly to reach it, when the unthinkable happened. An outcrop she was using as support broke loose from underneath her. The fall nearly broke her grip, but she held on. Rogue managed to swing herself to the side to avoid it.

"Hey, careful!" Bobby shouted in protest, feeling the rope lurch in his grip.

Piotr looked up and saw the immense rock barreling towards him. His flesh turned into solid metal instantly, just as it smashed into his head, shattering. Jason several feet below him saw the rocks plummet towards him. He dodged one to his left, but overdid it. He swung right and his side smashed into the cliff. His grip failed, and the rope flew out of his hands. Jason could only watch as the rope swung out of reach as he fell.

Piotr heard Jason cry out when he swung against the rock, and look down, just in time to see him fall. "JASON!" he cried out in cold terror.

Jean above heard Piotr's scream, just as a blast of panic burst through her telepathy. Thinking fast, she reached over the ledge and towards the falling form of Jason.

Jason tumbled around in the air, hollering as the ground zoomed to catch him. At one point, he could see the ground beneath him and his heart nearly burst with panic. He threw his arms in front of him to protect his face.

Suddenly, he stopped with a lurch. The muscles in his back groaned as inertia punched his spine, legs and neck. Jason's eyes snapped open and he looked down. Only a few feet from his face was the ground, but he was floating above it. Gasping, he reached down, his fingertips caressing the dirt and tiny rocks. His other hands felt his face as his senses were racing to catch up to him to tell him he was alive.

He then felt himself begin to rise up the mountain, pulled by an invisible force. As he gyrated around until his feet were once again underneath him, his glassy eyes gazed up to see Jean reaching down to him, concentrating very strongly. The air stuck in his lungs as he flew up the mountainside.

Finally, he rose up onto the ledge where Scott, Jean, Kurt and Kitty were now watching him rise up. Jean maneuvered her hands so intricately that it reminded Jason of clay molders. Finally, Jean felt the ground caress the bottom of his shoes. Jean still looked very focused. "Jason, I need you to keep your balance when I let go. Can you do it?"

For some reason, words failed Jason as his throat clamped shut. Thankfully, his neck muscles still worked and he nodded sharply as his lips pursed.

Jean lowered her hands very slowly, and Jason felt himself lurched forward as the invisible force let go of him. To his credit, he remained standing, but his legs shook and his insides tingled as the epinephrine was slowly being washed away from his muscles.

Kitty led him away from the cliff's edge and sat him down, just as Rogue climbed up. "What just happened? Is Jason ok?"

Jean looked compassionately as Jason, who seemed to be gasping for air. Kitty was trying to get him to talk, but wasn't successful. "He's rattled, but he'll be fine. Come on up before another earthquake happens."

Bobby followed behind hastily, not wishing to be on the ropes any more. "Screw this! That's the last time I'm going mountain climbing!"

Piotr soon himself clambered up onto the ledge, his skin since returning to flesh. Instantly, he was by Jason's side. "Jason! Are you ok?"

Jason slowly looked at Piotr, his eyes very glassy but clear. "I…" Jason tried, but speaking was difficult. "I-I-I think s-so."

Piotr himself was gasping. "I thought…I thought…"

Jean came by Piotr's side. "It's ok, Piotr. He's fine; he just needs a breather."

Piotr lowered his head. "Thank you, Jean. Thank you."

Kitty was feeling more vocal. "Like the heck? Can anyone tell me why we're doing this again?"

Rogue crossed her arms. "Yeah, if we never came out here, this wouldn't have happened."

Jean interceded. "Hey, now, it was just a freak accident. It wasn't something we could have prepared for."

Scott was looking up the mountain, seeing the flag less than a hundred meters above them. "Freak-nothing. That was Avalanche, which means he and the Brotherhood has to be nearby. We have to move. Jean, levitate us all to the top so we can finally end this."

"What?!" exclaimed most of the others. Jean was particularly vocal. "No way!"

Scott spun to face Jean. "Come on, what's the big deal? You just used your powers just a little bit ago!"

"That was life and death, Scott! If I didn't, Jason would have died!" Jean crossed her arms. "We promised not to use our powers out here, Scott, but I'm sure the Professor can forgive me for using them in an emergency."

"Ok, fine," Scott said. "You don't want to use them." Scott turned to Kurt. "Kurt?"

Jean's eyes flashed angrily, her hair stirring from her telekinesis. "Scott Summers!" she barked. "What do you think you're doing?!"

Scott nearly jumped from the force of Jean's question, but he recomposed himself. "Hey, I just want to win this thing so we don't hear it for months from them!"

"Scott, are you listening to yourself?" Jean placed a hand on her head. "You're so obsessed over this silly race that you've completely forgot what's important!" She motioned towards Jason, where a consoling Piotr was still by his side. "Winning his race isn't important, Scott. So what if they win this race? It's not the end of the world, and it doesn't mean a thing anyway."

Scott sighed sharply. "We're supposed to keep the Brotherhood from winning, right?"

"No, Scott!" Jean said, her tone softening. "It's never been about that. Scott, we're the X-Men. The Professor's been training us to use our powers responsibly, so when the time comes, we can be ready. It's so we can be better men and women when the time arises."

Jason was half-listening to Jean, when something that she said got his attention. "Better men and women…" he repeated slowly.

Piotr heard him. "Jason?"

Jason looked at Piotr briefly, but Jean continued on, grabbing his attention again. "Scott, you know this as much as the rest of us do. Sure, we are all tired of getting harassed by the Brotherhood, and sure, it would feel good to put them in their place, but that's not what we are here for. It never has been."

Scott sighed again, but didn't answer. His mind was screaming at him to move to the flag, but there was something else pulling him back. Deep down, he knew Jean was right, and he knew he had been bull-headed about this whole thing ever since camp started.

"Listen to her, Scott…"

The others, including Scott and Jean, looked to see Jason, looking rather imploringly at their leader. "She's completely right. I know it." Jason swallowed a bit. "I didn't tell you guys this, but before I signed up for this trip, I talked to the Professor…"

Piotr suddenly had a feeling what this was about. "Jason…are you sure?"

Jason looked at Piotr, and nodded. "More than sure." Looking back at Scott, he said. "One thing I always have a hard time with is confiding in people, and even though you all have proven to be my friends, I still couldn't bring myself to confide in you all. I'm a complete bonehead about it, really. You all were eager to help me adjust to the Institute and just be there when I needed it, even when I was a complete asshole."

Jason looked around at the others in turn. "Kurt, you taught me to feel sorry for those who don't understand us. Rogue, you were there with me during the hurricane and telling me I wasn't alone, and you were right." He looked at Piotr. "You were right."

Piotr smiled a little bit at that. Jason was talking about that night he came down to sleep on the floor with Jason so he wouldn't be alone.

Jason looked at Jean. "Jean, you always tell me to share my feelings with others, especially when I'm close to stressing out. Peter, you told me to trust the people in charge above me, because they often see something we don't; also, those same people are human like us and make mistakes. We just need to move on."

Finally, Jason looked at Scott. "All these things are my lessons to grow as both a mutant and a person, and I know I have a long ways to go. I still struggle with opening up to people, and sometimes I still feel alone with my feelings because of what happened here." Jason tapped his scar. "But I can trust you, Scott, to make the right decision. You're our leader; we follow your lead. So be the better man so we all can."

The others regarded Jason briefly, and then turned to Scott who seemed lost in his thoughts. He had not been aware of the conditions Jason had come on this trip; the Professor only told him to plan on two extra bodies on the trip and to watch them closely. He had assumed it was just step-up training to become X-Men, but Jason's testimony blasted that assumption out of the water. It was humbling and chastising to hear Jason plead for him to stick to his promise to the Professor and at least try to win this thing cleanly. Jean's lecture was also chipping away at his misplaced resolve. Now he was wondering how in the world did he allow himself to get here?

"_Hello!_"

Everyone's head snapped up as they heard a very weak voice on the air. "Did anyone else hear that or was that just me?" Bobby said.

"Shh!" Jean and Scott hushed in unison.

"_Hello!_" came the call again.

After a few seconds, Kitty said, "Call me crazy…but that sounds like Toad!"

"It does…," Scott said. His gut was right; the Brotherhood was close.

Rogue was trying to locate where it was coming from as her eyes combed the mountainside. Suddenly, her eyes fell on a crevice only a few meters away. Walking towards it, she soon found it contained a mine shaft pointing straight down. "Hello?" she called down it.

"_Rogue? Is that you?"_ came the voice.

"_It_ is _Toad!" _her mind screamed. "Hey!" called Rogue to the others. "It's them! They're down here!"

The others scrambled towards Rogue, and surrounded the shaft mouth. Scott called down. "Toad? Is that you?"

"_Yeah…_" Toad said pained.

Jean caught the tone. "Are you hurt?"

"_No, just hating what I'm about to say._"

The X-Men looked at each other.

"_Oh, they're going to kill me…_" came Todd's voice.

"_Just spit it out already, Toad!_" came a harsher, quicker voice.

Jason sighed. "Pietro; so much for my luck."

"_I heard that, scar-head!_"

Scott called down. "Is anyone hurt down there?"

"_No, just trapped! It all caved in! Come on, don't leave us down here. Not for some stupid flag!_"

"_I swear, Toad, if we weren't trapped down here…_" came Pietro's voice again.

"There's not a doubt in my mind that Lance caused the cave-in," Kurt said.

"Agreed, but that's not important right now," Scott said.

Jason made a face. "Don't _I_ have a say in that?"

"Not now, Jason," Scott and Jean chorused.

"How are we going to get them out?" Kitty said. "There was a ladder, but it's totally busted now."

"Our only choice is the rappelling rope we used to get up here," Jason said.

"Right," Jean said. "But if some of them are still trapped, just throwing down the rope won't work."

"Yeah," Kitty said. "But we don't have anything to dig them out."

"Actually…we do…" Jason said slowly.

Everyone looked at Jason, who held up his hands slightly, and motioned to himself.

"You mean…," Bobby said.

"Yeah, I can transmute the debris enough so they can get out. Shouldn't be too hard…," Jason then looked down the hole, and continued louder. "…providing the _fastest tongue alive_ doesn't start trouble!"

"_Oh, you think you are _sooo_ funny…_" Pietro's voice sneered. "_Now are you going to get us out of here or what?_"

"_Please?_" whelped Toad's voice.

"_Shut up, Toad!_" chorused his three comrades.

Jason looked at Scott. "Teamwork in action."

"You up for this, Jason?" Scott said.

Jason pursed his lips. "I doubt we'll come up with a better plan. Now all I need is a good belayer."

Piotr, beside Jason, said. "I will help…" He then looked concerned. "Jason, are you sure you are all right?"

Jason's eyes softened. "I appreciate your concern, Peter; hell, I welcome it, but we all know what we should do. Just trust me."

Piotr still looked very concerned, but he eventually nodded. "I do."

Jason smiled a bit, handing Piotr one end of the rope. "I don't think Jean will begrudge you steel up for me…especially considering we have Blob to hoist up."

At that, Piotr looked concerned. "Is rope strong enough?"

Jason threaded the rope through the belt loops on his pants, and was doing his best to improvise the knots and clips needed for rappelling. "This is a rappelling rope, and it has a breaking strength of nearly seven tons."

"In other words, it could hold a young elephant, much less Fred," Jean said assuringly.

"So yeah, it's strong enough," Jason summarized. "I'm depending on you, Peter."

A moment of tense silence past between the two, but Piotr finally nodded, his flesh expanding and hardening into his trademark organic steel. "Be careful."

Jason smiled. "Hey, it's me!" Jason peered down the shaft as he climbed into its mouth. "Going down…"

As he descended, every eye of the X-Men peered down the shaft as Jason meticulously descended, slowly disappearing into the darkness. Jason pressed his lips together as he felt the rock face with his feet for both hold and hazard. As the darkness deepened, his progressed slowed. While he had a flashlight, his hands were too occupied to utilize it, not to mention it would be dangerous to try.

"_Jason, how is it going?"_ came the mental voice in his head.

"_So far, so good,"_ Jason thought, allowing Jean to read it. _"No idea how far away from the bottom I am though…"_

"_You have to be getting close. I can feel their minds not very far from yours."_

"_No offense, Jean, but that's kind of creepy."_

"_Well, since I don't think you have sonar, take what you can get."_

Jason sighed._ "Do I even _need_ to say or think it?"_

"_No, you don't. You've only been saying it for weeks now."_

"_Well, it's only true."_ Jason's foot suddenly found empty space. "Whoa!" Jason yelped.

"Relax, X-Geek, you only found the bottom," hissed Pietro.

"I can barely see anything down here; sue me." Jason lowered himself a little further, his feet finally touching solid ground underneath him. _"Ok, just hit the bottom," _Jason thought.

"_Good; you're almost at the end of your rope." _

Jason rolled his eyes at Jean's pun. "So, is anyone hurt?"

"Like you care," Pietro answered.

"No, we aren't!" Lance finally said. "Are you going to stand there or are you going to help us out?"

"Couple things first:" Jason answered. "One, go up the rope one at a time; while it's a strong rope, I don't want some idiot jostling the rope. Two, _no_ funny business!" Jason crossed his arms in the near complete darkness.

Fred crossed his own arms. "You expect me to climb that on that dinky little rope? You must have hit your head hard in whatever gave you that scar, dude."

Jason was grateful that the darkness hid his face, because he was shooting Fred a death glare. "You think I'm that stupid, Fred? That rope can hold a bull elephant, much less someone of triple-digit weight. Not to mention, we have Colossus holding the rope. You don't trust it, you can stay down here."

Fred growled. "Fine, have it your way," he said as he strode towards the rope.

Jason had to bite his tongue to not retort; he didn't need to make a situation worse with loose lips. "Todd, you hang around down here until Fred's up, and for god's sake, don't touch anything."

"Hey!" Toad said. "You think I'm going to bury us again or something?"

"Yes," chorused Jason, Pietro and Lance, which surprised each of them.

Toad visibly deflated.

"Just don't touch anything." Jason repeated, before he reached into his backpack feeling for a flashlight. "If we're all patient, we'll all get out of here."

"Wow, that sounded just like a Boy Scout," Pietro hissed.

"Since you're the exemplar of patience, Pietro, I thought you'd appreciate it," Jason retorted.

"Are you kidding me?" Toad guffawed. "Pietro can't even wait to swallow his food before the next bite!" A thick silence was Toad's answer. Toad got the hint. "Right, shutting up now."

"Best news I've heard today," Lance muttered.

Jason pulled out a flashlight and switched it on. "Well, now that I can finally see, I can finally get you guys out and you can go back to be a loving happy family."

"Yeah?" Pietro spat. "Well, if he was smart, Colossal Failure up there should just let go of the rope. Save him a world of trouble."

Jason spun the flashlight right into Pietro's eyes. "Watch your mouth, Pietro."

"_Jason, Fred made it up,"_ came Jean's mental voice.

"_Thanks for the update,"_ Jason thought, then said aloud. "All right, Toad, head on up."

"About time," Toad muttered, and began hoisting himself up the rope.

Pietro didn't feel obliged to stop, despite Jason's warning. "But I suppose I can't expect that. That giant hunk of medal couldn't hurt a butterfly even if he wanted to."

A clap echoed in the cavern; suddenly, the cavern lit up green as alchemic energy coursed through the rubble around them. In the middle of it all was Jason, wrapped in a cocoon of the same energy as tendrils shot off into the rocks, summoning its restructuring. Lance and Pietro didn't dare move nor breath as the rock and wooden planks around them seemed to melt together and crawl to the walls like some primordial life form. Just as fast as it melted down, it congealed back into stone and wood, solid and unbroken.

The cavern grew dark again, and both heard footsteps. Pietro felt himself pulled to his feet and was now staring into a pair of eyes that seemed to crackle with the same energy. "Listen, Pietro, because I'm only going to say this once: there's not a doubt in my mind that your father has something planned for Peter, and I don't like it. When you get out of here, deliver this message to Magneto:" Jason's eyes narrowed angrily, and tendrils of alchemic energy raced between his fingers gripping Pietro's shirt. "If he touches a single hair on Peter's or any of his family's heads, I will personally crush his head within that spittoon he calls a helmet. Am I clear?"

Pietro grinned. "Ooh, that sounded like—"

"**AM I CLEAR?!"** Jason roared, instantly silencing Pietro's retort before it sprouted.

Pietro felt his insides shake at the force of Jason's demanding question; all he could do was stare at Jason's eyes, narrowed to slits but emitting barely-restrained fury. Normally, Pietro would just have blown Jason off with another taunt, but Jason was clearly in no mood for games. Showing uncharacteristic amount of restraint, Pietro growled, "Fine…"

Jason let go of Pietro's shirt. "Good." Jason stood out of Pietro's way. "Toad likely already made it up. Get out of here."

Pietro stood defiantly still for the briefest of seconds, but conceded to walk silently around him, although not without shooting Jason a poisonous scowl. As he strode past, Jason's hard gaze followed Pietro. Soon enough, Pietro began climbing the ropes, and out of sight of Jason's scrutinizing glare.

Jason then looked at Lance, who was standing with his arms crossed. One of Jason's eyes twitched in annoyance. "Got something to say, Lance?"

Lance smirked. "It's nice to know that not everyone on the X-Geeks is a goody-two-shoe."

Jason didn't move. "Spare me the patronizing, Lance, because I don't give a damn what you think what I—or we—are."

"Yeah? Well, you talk big for someone climbing down here and rescuing his own bully. Seriously, what's your angle?"

Now Jason crossed his arms. "I was the only one who could get you out of here the fastest and the most safely. It wasn't anything personal; just a matter of tactics. I would think Mystique would have taught you a thing or two about tactics."

Lance frowned at the shot.

"But you're right. I—and the rest of us—very well could have left you down here and gone for the flag to win the race, but we didn't. If the tables were turned—not saying they would be—would you four have done the same?" Jason looked away. "I doubt it, but last time I checked, just because the river flows south that doesn't mean I should go south. Sometimes the best way isn't the easiest way, Lance. Lesson in life."

Now Lance looked away, scoffing. "What, you trying to convert me or something, Scarhead?"

"I have a name, Lance," Jason said. "And I can't tell you to do anything; neither can any of the rest of us. What you do with whatever you hear or see is your decision." Jason walked towards the rope to see if Pietro made it to the top. After finding no one, he signaled to Lance that the way was clear. "Whatever you choose, I hope you're happy with it."

Lance looked at Jason for the briefest of moments, and then strode past him towards the ropes. Jason remained behind, lost in thought. His words rekindled past memories of the time before the hurricane over two months ago. The Professor had said the same thing to him in different words:

"_Whatever you glean from this, Jason, I hope that you are happy with the choice you have said you stand on."_

Jason allowed himself to grin at the irony. _"I think I've been at the Institute too long…"_

Meanwhile, back outside, Fred, Toad and Pietro were resting from their climb while the rest of the X-Men were waiting for Lance and Jason to ascend the ropes. Piotr, still in metal-form, was patiently belaying the rope and didn't look any worse for wear for having to hold on to over six-hundred pounds of weight that Fred so proudly held.

Fred looked disdainfully at the tall metallic youth. He was lucky that they he wasn't in any mood for a fight at the moment; otherwise, he'd show him who was the strong-man on the campus. Looking away, he looked up the mountain, and at once espied the flag at the summit. Discreetly, he looked at the X-Geeks near the mouth of the shaft: all were too busy looking down.

Quickly, he nudged Pietro, who protested. "Hey, not enough room for you?"

Fred ignored him. "Look up there." He pointed to the summit.

Pietro followed Fred's fat finger to the object of attention: a simple white triangular banner holding on to an even simpler wooden steak. Pietro smiled. "I'm on it." Without another syllable, he dashed for the top.

As Pietro blasted past the X-Men, Scott snapped up as the wind clawed at him. "Hey!" Scott protested.

_**BAMF!**_

Kurt suddenly teleported in a cloud of smoke, startling everyone around including the newly-surfaced Lance, who was left coughing as the sulfurous fumes washed over him. "Man!" Lance coughed as he dragged himself up. "And I thought _Toad_ reeked!"

Pietro raced around the summit until he came to the very top. Grinning wildly, he reached for the flag. Suddenly, a flash of smoke erupted beside the flag. A hand reached out of it and grabbed the flag, just as Pietro grabbed it himself.

"Hey!" Pietro protested. "Let go, you blue monkey! I had it first!"

The smoke blew away, revealing Kurt holding onto the flag himself. "No way, Pietro!"

The tug-of-war continued on the summit as Jason finally emerged from the whole, and noticed everyone save Piotr was looking up at the summit. Looking around, he noticed one in particular was absent from the group. Sighing, he presumed, "Pietro?"

"_And_ Kurt," Jean added.

Jason lumbered onto solid ground, just as Piotr began unwinding the rope from around his arms. "Guess there goes the race…"

"Hey, look over there!" Kitty said, pointing towards the south.

The others perked up and looked southwards; Jason lumbered to his feet and asked, "What is it?"

"Is that a jet way over there?"

Jason squinted in the afternoon sun. "Whatever it is, it's coming in fast…and low." An inkling flashed across his mind's eye. "You don't think…"

"I think you're right…" Scott said, just as the roaring sound of jet thrusters began ripping the air apart.

In seconds, the dot on the horizon grew wings and before any of them could react, it was right on top of them, slowing down to a hover. The X-Jet hovered just off the summit, causing everyone—particularly the warring Kurt and Pietro—to freeze and look.

"_X-Men,"_ came a voice over the loudspeaker. _"Prepare to board immediately. The Institute is in danger!"_

A collective shock passed over the Institute members. Scott immediately took charge. "You heard the Professor. Let's go!"

None hesitated. "Well, guess the race is over," Jason mused.

In a blink, Pietro appeared right beside Jason. "That's right, Alche-dork! And you all lost!"

Toad even chimed in. "Yeah, that's right! We beat you!"

Lance couldn't resist. "What did I tell you, _Sumner_? Told you we would win."

Scott gritted his teeth, but before he could respond, Jason cut in, all the while ignoring Pietro to his side. "Technically, you didn't without using powers…like you said you would."

Pietro scoffed. "Like that makes a difference now. Just face it, dork; you lose, we win!"

Jason scowled. "Congratulations, Pietro. You win a flag, whoop-de-flipping-do."

"Who cares about the flag?" Toad said. "We still won!"

"That you did. I'm sure Sergeant Hawke will be thrilled to see the picture of you guys holding the flag at the top. Now, if you excuse us, we have a job to do."

Stone-cold silence came from the Brotherhood boys, who looked at each other. "Ok, who has the camera?" Pietro whispered.

"I don't," Fred whispered back.

"I don't either," replied Lance the same way.

"Don't look at me!" whispered Todd.

"Are you freaking kidding me?!" Pietro whispered fiercely. "You mean you three idiots forgot to bring a camera?"

"Hey, you forgot too, Pietro!" Fred whispered.

While their hushed argument proceeded, Scott said, "Kurt, get down here and port us to the X-Jet! Guys, huddle. Kurt should be able to port us to the X-Jet in one jump."

Jason looked at the Brotherhood, and had guessed what happened between them. "Just one last thing, first." He called to them. "Hey, Pietro? Forget something?"

Pietro spun around to face Jason. "Why do you care?"

Just as Jason heard Kurt's trademark teleporting behind him, he quickly pulled out a disposable camera from his pocket and snapped a picture. "Just wondering, s'all." He turned back to his peers. "Ready when you all are!"

"Aye, aye!" Kurt said, placing a hand on the group and teleported away.

"You little—!" was all Jason heard as they reappeared on the X-Jet in a flash of smoke. Jason allowed himself to smile. "Ok, that was worth it."

Scott immediately asked. "Who's attacking, Professor?"

"First things first: suit up. Your uniforms are in the back. Jason, Bobby, you need to suit up as well. You will be needed greatly for this."

That surprised Jason and Bobby as they looked at each other, but Jean spoke before any of them had the chance. "Professor, what's wrong?"

"I will tell you, but you must prepare yourself for your greatest challenge yet."

* * *

><p>Iron Man clattered across the battlefield to a stop, his armor bent in many places, yet maintaining its functionality, even though some lights shining through began to blink rather sickly. Iron Man tried to climb to his feet. <em>"Ok, definitely not trying that again. JARVIS, damage report."<em>

"_Flight thrusters have sustained concussive damage. Auto-repairs are underway, but prolonged flight is not recommended. Flight stabilizers, primary weapon systems and emergency power reserves are online. Main power systems are holding at 65%, but further trauma to the reactor will cause the armor to cease function albeit without endangering your cardiovascular system."_

"_Good to know. Where's the target?"_

A massive thud shook the ground as an armored giant landed nearly right on top of Iron Man. Before he could react, a massive hand grabbed his head and tossed him into a grove of firs. Seemingly not satisfied, Juggernaut came rampaging through and snatched up Iron Man as if he was just an action figure. "I'm right here!" He then smashed Iron Man into the ground and smashed a foot down on top of him. "Your armor is nothing against the might of the Juggernaut! I'll stomp you into the earth!" With that, he raised his foot up.

A snarl came up from behind, and then Wolverine climbed up on Juggernaut's back like a wildcat. Juggernaut raised his hands to get the pest off, but Wolverine bounded over the arms. Twisting around, he swung himself up, whipping out only two claws out of one fist, and then jabbed them into the eye slots of Juggernaut's helmet.

Juggernaut instantly covered his face as he stepped back. Wolverine followed up quickly with lightning-quick slashes at the nerves under Juggernaut's arms. Juggernaut roared angrily, and then shot both fists down on top of Wolverine, pommeling him. Iron Man watched nauseated as blood spattered from beneath the mammoth's fists. Juggernaut then picked up the still form of Wolverine and was threw it down again.

"_Tell me the stabilizers aren't offline."_

"_They are not, sir, and are primed."_

Iron Man raised a hand and fired a shot right into the slots of Juggernaut's helmet. Juggernaut backed off, trying to swat away whatever hit him.

"_Sir, attracting his attention may not be the wisest course of action given the present structural integrity of the armor."_

"_I'm risking it, JARVIS. You meanwhile see if you can reach our back up. We're going to need all the help we can get."_

"_Affirmative, sir."_

Juggernaut shot his eyes around and noticed Iron Man, clambering to his feet. Enraged, he ran up and smashed his knee into Iron Man's head. Iron Man fell into his back, but not without travelling twenty five feet. Juggernaut chased after him, completely livid. Iron Man didn't even have time to pick himself up before Juggernaut wrapped his massive arms around Iron Man's waist and squeezed. "Let's see how strong you are now!"

Damage reports began piling in as the armor began to buckle. JARVIS alerted. "_Weapons systems offline, thrusters offline, flight stabilizers offline, emergency power cells offline…"_

"_FLARES!" _Tony shouted suddenly.

"_Deploying flares." _At once, two slots opened up and fired multi-colored flashes of light, shooting chaotically around the area. In the fog, the flares tripled in brightness, and Juggernaut was blinded to the depths of his retinas. At once, he dropped Iron Man who retreated behind a tree, trying to keep quiet as Juggernaut swatted away the fireflies that seemed to dance before his eyes.

"Damn you!" Juggernaut blasted.

Iron Man peered out from behind cover, his eyes shining brightly through the mist and smoke. Through infrared filtering, he could see the form of Juggernaut trying to peer through the soupy mix of smoke and mist. His suit's readouts were staggering with damage reports. He couldn't keep this up any longer.

"_Sir, I have established contact with Professor Xavier,"_ JARVIS notified at one-third of his normal volume.

"_Professor, mind picking up the pace?"_ Tony said. _"You don't want to be late."_

"_We have your location and we are two minutes out. Hold on!" _

"_Easy for him to say,"_ Tony thought. He continued quietly. _"JARVIS, tell me we have something."_

"_The flares were our last defensive option, sir, and have been depleted." _

Iron Man's grimace was almost visible behind the gold face. _"Looks like I'm playing low-tech."_ Stark combed the area again, seeing that Juggernaut was definitely looking for him. Some distance away, Wolverine was still knitting himself together, but he was on his feet. Despite the seriousness of the situation, he had to wish he could recover from hangovers that fast.

Juggernaut got closer to his position, and Iron Man shimmied around the tree to avoid his gaze. Slowly, but surely, Juggernaut turned his back on him. Iron Man looked around the tree and saw his exposed back. He didn't have a lot of options, and he needed to keep Juggernaut in this area just long enough for back up. He couldn't help but sigh mentally; sometimes it sucked being him.

As Juggernaut looked around, he growled. "Show your face, you little metal snot! Don't tell me that's all you got."

"_Not quite."_

Before Juggernaut could react, Iron Man heaved himself up on Juggernaut's enormous back. Juggernaut sagged underneath the weight, but only briefly. The stagger was all Iron Man needed. His eyes lit up one of the latches. _"This looks important!"_ he glibly said, grasping onto the latch.

Juggernaut reached backwards and grabbed Iron Man, by the head. Swinging around, he pulled and threw Iron Man across the clearing. Iron Man slid to a halt next to Wolverine who was shaking his head after being ground to death.

Wolverine looked down at Iron Man, who hadn't moved. "That was a stupid thing to do, Stark," he growled.

Iron Man lifted his head. _"Compare notes with Potts; I'm sure she'll find something worse."_ With that, he held up his hand: inside it was a piece of the latch that snapped off. _"In fact, I'll bet my inventory of spirits on it. Shake on it?"_

Meanwhile, Juggernaut had felt the sensation that he lost something. Patting his back, his massive hands slid across his back…and stopped at one of the latches' locations. It took only the briefest of seconds to process what happened. Whipping around, he found Wolverine and Iron Man. "You'll pay for that!" he roared.

Iron Man looked back at Juggernaut. _"I suppose now would be a good time to say that they are on their way."_

Wolverine huffed. "Doesn't help."

Juggernaut took one step to run towards them, when a strange sound cut the air: a high-pitched sound that seemed to rip the air. All looked up and around, trying to see where it was coming from, but the fog was still too thick. Wolverine however recognized it. "Took them long enough."

Juggernaut was still trying to see what the source of the sound was, when suddenly a loud sound came from his side. Looking to see, he soon saw a flash of red. Before he could think about it, a blast of red light punched him in the gut, forcing him back.

"Take a breather you two! We got this!" came a voice.

"_Right on cue,"_ Iron Man quipped.

Juggernaut looked livid. "You think you can stop me?!"

The source of the new voice entered view: a slimmer teen wearing a visor that seemed to shimmer red. "Oh I don't _think_ we can; I _know_ we can."

As if on cue, another pop sound immersed from the mist, revealing several more new combatants flashing from smoke, all wearing similar uniforms the visor-wearer wore.

"Alchemist, take care of Iron Man. The rest of us, take this guy down! Go for the latches."

As one scarred-youth split from the group, the rest scattered about the clearing as Cyclops aimed another crimson shot. Juggernaut took the shot, but held his ground. Infuriated, he grabbed a tree and pulled it out of the ground. "See how you take this!" He tossed it.

Cyclops dived out of the way, narrowly avoiding being clouted. "Jean, try to hold him still!"

Jean reached out with here telekinesis and formed a stasis field around Juggernaut. At once, she felt bone-crushing resistance, so intense that it felt like she was going to have a stroke. Groaning in exertion, she hissed. "I…I can't…" She then fell to the ground, completely drained.

Now free, Juggernaut whirled around and charged at her. Suddenly, Colossus tackled him from the side. The two grappled with each other, tearing up the ground as they did. Juggernaut kicked Colossus off, his feet clanging against the other's metal flesh. Before he could retaliate, Cyclops fired another optic blast. Blocking the crimson blast with his arm, Juggernaut only grew angrier; he snatched up a tree and tossed it like it was just a stick. Cyclops barely had time to avoid being crushed as he leaped aside, the tree soaring overhead and crashing into the trees behind him.

"Man, you really need to chill out!" came a voice from Juggernaut's far left.

Turning, he saw a boy scrawny enough to eat seemingly completely made of ice. He thrust his hands forward, and a frigid blast shot out, completely encasing Juggernaut in ice.

Cyclops saw an opportunity. "Shadowcat, see if you can phase in and unlatch one of those latches!"

"On it!" Shadowcat replied, taking off for the frozen giant.

Before she got within five feet of her target, the ice shattered around Juggernaut's form. Shadowcat flinched, as ice shards shot away as if a frozen firecracker went off, but she retained the focus to phase into the ground. As she sank beneath the surface, Juggernaut's arm swung just inches where she was standing—quite solidly—before.

Juggernaut was furious. He was being embarrassed by kids! Not if he could help it. "Enough!" he yelled, punctuating it with a massive punch to the ground. A ripple of earth shot from all around him, knocking all the X-Men too close to him off of their feet. Juggernaut had smashed the ground so hard that Shadowcat shot back to the surface as if she was thrown up from below.

Meanwhile, Alchemist had reached Iron Man's side. After having recovered from his initial shock from seeing the massive form of Juggernaut, he refocused his mind to his task at hand, all the while trying to ignore the sounds of battle sickeningly close.

Iron Man looked at the kid who just joined him and Wolverine, more so at the boorish scar. _"Here's looking at you, kid," _he said.

Alchemist looked at all the damage, and couldn't help but flex his hands nervously. "I'm not going to lie; I'm not entirely sure where to start."

"How about you start with his mouth?" Wolverine said, breathing hard as the pain he was enduring still told of unhealed wounds.

"_What's he going to do?"_ Iron Man said. _"Massage me to health? I would have preferred that redhead to be my personal masseuse, myself…"_

Alchemist had to shake the puzzlement from his face before answering. "Just tell me which part needs to be fixed first and I'll do the rest."

"_Sir, the damage to the chest plating is impeding all my attempts of maintenance to the arc reactor. If it is not properly maintained within a few hours, we risk power failure."_

Alchemist looked slightly to the side, as if the source of the new voice was in Iron Man's ear. "Who was that?"

"_Just one of the voices in my head,"_ Iron Man stated. _"Whatever you are going to do, be careful not to crush the big glowing circle." _

Alchemist clapped his hands together and placed them on the chest plate, summoning his trademark alchemic powers to do his bidding. In seconds, the dents were gone and the armor shone like it was freshly polished. Alchemist sighed. "Next?"

Iron Man didn't say anything right away. In fact, he wasn't sure what to say at all. Had he been back at the tower, he would have had to either replace the chest piece or smith out the dents himself, which would have taken considerable time. Finally, Iron Man looked at Alchemist. _"How old are you?"_

One of Alchemist's thick eyebrows shot up. "Uh…seventeen?"

"_When you turn eighteen, you're hired."_

A crash nearby snapped Alchemist back out of his confusion. Looking back, he just saw Nightcrawler land nearby, stunned. "Shit," Alchemist hissed, before turning back to Iron Man. "What's next?"

As Alchemist continued to work on Iron Man, Juggernaut had been getting wiser. One blue-furred one had managed to teleport onto his back when he was knocked off his feet by the metal one. Before he could undo one of the remaining latches, Juggernaut had managed to grab him and toss him aside. Just as he did, the world lit up white as he felt a blast like a sledgehammer strike at his gut, followed by the ear-splitting sound of thunder.

Despite the fact it didn't harm him, the electricity shot through his muscles, flexing and contracting them chaotically. Determinedly, he stood against the barrage of lightning and glared towards the source: a woman floating above the ground like some pagan god, her white hair dancing like the wind.

Before he had the chance to react, another blast of red struck him in the back. Whipping around, he saw the tall one with the visor blasting him. Raising his arms to shield himself from the barrages, he glared at the one with the visor. "You can't hurt me with those lasers of yours! I am unstoppable!" With a roar, he charged at Cyclops.

Cyclops shut his visor just in time to see the giant come running to him. Dancing aside, his eyes never left Juggernaut's form as his mind raced for possible strategies. Shadowcat and Nightcrawler were already down, and Jean had not recovered yet from her strain. "Colossus! Distract him!"

Before Juggernaut could react, the one metal kid came running in, slamming him in the back with a punch. Lurching forward, he spun around to face his attacker. Catching a punch from Colossus, he threw a fist at the Russian youth's unprotected side. A clang spelled the hit as Colossus backed off from the blow, but Juggernaut dove at him, slamming him into the ground and pinning him. "You think you are strong?!"

He was cut off by another blast from Cyclops, striking him in the shoulder just below the undamaged latch. Snarling, he picked up Colossus and hurled him at Cyclops. Cyclops had only the time to look before colliding with the flying form of Colossus, knocking him out. Thankfully, Colossus had become flesh before impact, so Cyclops had been saved from being crushed.

Rogue, who had been trying to get a window to strike, saw that at this rate, they would surely lose this fight if she didn't do something. Nearby, Shadowcat was just coming to. "Whoa, what happened? Did I like phase into a beehive because I feel like one."

"C'mon, Kitty!" Scott, Kurt and Jean's down! We need to do something."

Meanwhile, Juggernaut looked around, expecting to see his dear old brother hiding somewhere. "Is that all you got, brother?" he called out. "Sending kids to do your work? You never did fight your own fights, didn't you? You always ran to mommy!"

As Jason was mending the last piece of armor, he turned when he heard Juggernaut's taunts, a strange look building across his face. "That sounded personal," he mumbled.

Iron Man looked over as well. _"Son of a bitch. They're brothers. Talk about sibling rivalry."_

Jason looked at Iron Man, but then noticed a complete lack of emotion coming from Logan. While Logan was generally the antithesis of a thespian, it was the lack of response to the news that had caught his attention. "You knew?"

Wolverine, still waiting for his body to mend, looked at Jason—the latter trying not to let the healing progress nauseate him. "In a manner of speaking."

"_It's true, Jason," _came the Professor's voice. _"He is my step-brother through marriage, his father's son, Cain."_

"_Well, that partly explains why he hates you, I guess…but I bet there's more to it," _Jason thought.

"_Much, but this is hardly the time to expound."_

Jason nodded, before looking back to Juggernaut. _"Well, looks like I'll have to _make _time."_

"_Jason, you aren't ready to face him!" _

"_Read my mind, Professor…and if you're okay with it, patch in Storm, Kitty and Rogue."_

While that exchange was going on, Juggernaut saw that others were hanging back. "Is that all you got? You can't stop the Juggernaut! You're stupid to try!"

"Pardon us for being thick…!" came a challenging voice. Juggernaut turned to face his new challenger: an athletic-looking youth with a dominant scar on the right side of his face. The youth continued, "…but with a helmet like _that_, you'd know all about that, wouldn't you Cain?"

At the mention of his birth-name, Juggernaut's eyes shot open…and then slowly narrowed. "You dare challenge the Juggernaut?"

"Oh, I don't dare…" Jason clapped his hands together. "I _am_ challenging you…"

Juggernaut saw red, and charged with a yell. Alchemist held up a hand, gauging the speed of the charging behemoth. Suddenly, he slapped it against the ground, summoning an earthen pole to rise beneath him. Juggernaut skidded to a halt, completely incredulous as the boy now stood on a fifteen foot pole above him. "You think that's going to stop me?"

Jason crossed his arms. "This? No." He then pointed downwards. "Gravity might though."

Through his helmet, a puzzled look peered through the slits, only moments before Juggernaut fell through the earth. The fall collapsed the pillar under Alchemist's feet, but he was expecting it. Leaping off at the last second in a flip, he landed right on top of Juggernaut's helmet. "NOW!"

Behind Juggernaut, two figures phased out of the ground: Rogue and Kitty. "Get the latch!" cried Rogue.

Both worked quickly to get the latch undone, a fact not lost on Juggernaut as he thrashed about in the sinkhole. "GET OFF!" he shouted, lumbering himself. Alchemist bailed, tumbling off but quickly got to his feet and faced Juggernaut, who showing surprising speed climbed out. He spun around and faced the young Alchemist. "You'll pay for that!"

Alchemist had to summon willpower not to be too aware of the Goliath-proportion between him and Juggernaut. "You'll have to catch me first, dickhead!"

Juggernaut swung at Alchemist, who deftly dodged aside, mildly wondering if he bit more than he could chew. They were two latches down and two to go: the front ones, and likely to be the hardest. He knew he had to immobilize him somehow, but how could one stop something this big from moving for even a few seconds?

Evading another punch, his mind raced for a way to keep Juggernaut's hands occupied as they fumbled with the remaining latches. At this point, they needed something crazy, something simple…

Jason's eyes suddenly flashed. He wondered what made him think of it, but he stopped himself before he began to rationalize it as a good idea. "Storm! You still out there?" he called out, keeping himself out of reach from Juggernaut.

Storm lowered herself from the skies. "What do you need?"

"Can you make it rain? I got an idea." He narrowly ducked a backhanded punch.

Storm raised her hands to the sky, summoning the clouds the build above her. In seconds, a downpour began to fall on the forest. Alchemist now split his mind between searching for the next ingredient and avoiding being pulverized.

As the tussle continued, Piotr felt the rain splash down on his face, waking him up from his stupor. He felt his head throb painfully as his mind tried to piece together what happened. One moment, he had been fighting Juggernaut—his eyes flashed. Rolling up onto his seat, he looked around and saw Juggernaut swatting at someone else. Suddenly, the offender slid into view. Piotr felt his heart skip. "Jason…"

Scrambling to his feet, he soon espied Jean nearly, who was gingerly holding her head. She probably woke up thanks to the rain too. Scrambling towards her, he said earnestly, "Jean, we need to help Jason. He is fighting Juggernaut!"

"What?" she replied weakly. It felt like a bowling ball had been shoved into her ear. "What about Jason?"

Breathing, Piotr said again, "He is fighting Juggernaut!"

Jean looked to see that Jason was in fact fighting Juggernaut, slipping and sliding across the area as the ground turned soft. "Oh, my!" She tried to get herself up on her feet, but her headache pounded like a drum at a rock concert. "I-I can't concentrate. My head's a mess; I can't focus on my powers."

Piotr winced as he saw Juggernaut nearly wipe out Jason with a massive sweeping blow. Jason had backed up, sliding to a stop on the muddy ground just narrowing missing the blow. Piotr could also see that Jason couldn't keep the game up much longer. Looking around, he saw that most of the others were already spent. He needed to do something. He fought his headache as he stood up; there was no holding back now.

As Alchemist continued to dodge Juggernaut's wild swings, he soon espied the sinkhole that he himself had created moments ago. As soon as he saw an opening, he made a break for it and dropped to his side to slide the rest of the way. The sinkhole was overflowing with mud and water, something he had been counting on. Clapping his hands together, he turned and waited.

Juggernaut spun around, and soon found the kid next to the sinkhole. "You're like a little fish, but you're out of water, little man, and I'll squash you like a goldfish!" He ran at Alchemist.

Alchemist's eyes narrowed. "Wait! I got something to tell you!"

That stopped Juggernaut in his tracks, only feet away from the kid, who hadn't moved. Something about that stunned Juggernaut enough to stop.

"You got mud in your eye." Alchemist plunged his hand into the mud. Sparks of green shot upwards, and a blast of mud shot out and into Juggernaut's face.

Juggernaut staggered back as the mud filled the gaps of his helmet, completely blinding him. As he tried to claw the mud out, Alchemist scrambled to his feet and rushed under the flailing arms. He quickly spotted one of the latches and got to work, his fingers gliding back and forth as he undid the latch, and his eyes looked for the other one.

Suddenly, a massive hand grabbed his head and chest, picked him up and shook him around. Alchemist tried to pry the massive fingers away from his head and throat, but they were as strong as a vice. He could feel the pressure in his head build as he desperately tried to suck in any lick of breath he could.

"Very clever…," Juggernaut sneered, after wiping the mud from his face. His eyes narrowed as he peered at Alchemist struggling in his grasp. "…but looks like your fun is over." Juggernaut raised a fist. "Tell Charles when you meet him on the other side…he should have tried harder."

"PUT HIM DOWN!" came an authoritative voice.

Juggernaut's fist froze mid-strike as yet another challenging voice met his ears. His eyes narrowed as he turned slowly around and faced his newest challenger…and smiled seeing it was the big metal kid who tried twice and failed to best him. "Can't take a hint?"

Colossus' pupil-less eyes narrowed. "I said put him down!"

The smile disappeared from Juggernaut's face. "Are you going to make me?"

"If you put him down now, I am promising that I will not be squashing your head like egg."

Juggernaut stared only for a few tense seconds, and tossed Alchemist away as if he was a broken toy. As Alchemist lay several feet away gasping, Juggernaut cracked his knuckles. "Just try it, kid!" He threw a missile punch forward.

Colossus swatted it down with both hands, sweeping both hands upwards against Juggernaut's face. Juggernaut stumbled back, giving Colossus the time to charge in and slam into Juggernaut. Grappling briefly, Juggernaut swatted Colossus aside and quickly followed up with a solid punch into the other's face. Colossus fell to the ground, but he scrambled right back to his feet, and rounded back to face Juggernaut. Juggernaut swung again, but Colossus swatted the fist aside and rammed one of his own straight into Juggernaut's gut. As he doubled over, Colossus let fly an uppercut that sent Juggernaut off his feet.

Colossus charged forward, but Juggernaut leaped back to his feet and made a sweeping strike at his opponent. Colossus took the blow to his side, but struck back with a fist into the soft spot under Juggernaut's arm. The arm promptly collapsed, giving Colossus time to strike again at Juggernaut's face. Juggernaut quickly head-butted Colossus in the chest, pushing him away, completely puzzled at his opponent's plan of attack. What was he up to? He hadn't tried once for the latch!

Before he could think further, Colossus struck out again, but Juggernaut caught his fist, holding it in place. Colossus strained against Juggernaut's might as the larger held his fist in place seemingly effortlessly.

Juggernaut sneered. "Give it up, kid! You aren't stronger than me!"

Colossus only shot back. "I will not give up!" He doubled his efforts against Juggernaut's might…and ever so slowly, he was able to push Juggernaut's arm back.

Juggernaut quickly noticed, and the sneer vanished just as quickly. Suddenly, Colossus freed his hand and whipped it around, smashing it underneath Juggernaut's head. Juggernaut staggered back, and Colossus followed up with two rapid punches to the helmet, each fist clanging against it. Juggernaut struck back with another head-butt, but Colossus quickly recovered and smashed his own head into Juggernaut's chest. As Juggernaut staggered back, Colossus saw the latches in front of him and reached out, grabbing onto the latch and pulled. Juggernaut found himself pulled back into Colossus' grip, who swung around in a circle until something snapped and Juggernaut tumbled away.

Colossus took a quick breather as he threw the remains of the final latch away. Now there was only one thing left to do: knock the helmet off.

Juggernaut got up and patted the area where Colossus had grabbed him…and to his horror found the fourth and final latch torn up. Looking up, eyes flashing in anger, he saw Colossus charge again, and strike at him with a kick. Juggernaut caught the foot and twirled around, sending Colossus into an oak tree. Quickly, Juggernaut fumbled with the good latch, trying to relock it, but he was quickly interrupted by Colossus moving in. Swinging wildly, he smacked Colossus in the jaw, and returned to fixing the latch, but his fingers kept slipping in the rain. He couldn't get a good grip.

Colossus came in like a force of nature and smashed into Juggernaut's shoulder. Juggernaut was furious; he twisted around and smashed fist after fist into Colossus, forcing him into a tree. Juggernaut then rushed in and smashed lightning-fast punches at Colossus' gut and head. Colossus blocked as many as he could, but knew he couldn't keep this defense up, and finally ducked down. Juggernaut's fist slammed into the tree, and he was so blind with rage that he kept slamming the tree until it finally fell with a crash. Whipping around, he saw Colossus standing nearby and he swung again and again, but Colossus kept stepping further and further back, just out of reach. Suddenly, Colossus caught one punch and quickly struck back to the face. Juggernaut stumbled back, but moved right back in, intending to flatten this kid, metal flesh be damned.

Colossus knew he was dancing with death; Juggernaut was furious beyond all reason, but as Juggernaut attacked, Colossus could see more and more mistakes in Juggernaut's defense. Stepping back one punch, and ducking the next, she struck again at the chest and head. Colossus slapped back another punch and then slammed both fists into Juggernaut's chest.

Juggernaut staggered back, and Colossus moved in with a savage kick to the stomach. Juggernaut double over and Colossus swung back. "Face true strength, Juggernaut!" he yelled, and then struck upwards in the strongest uppercut he could muster.

Juggernaut flew backwards into the air, his helmet dislodging from the rims of his chest plate and clattering away. He crashed to the ground, momentarily stunned. Invulnerability or not, he felt that one. He looked up as the rain clinked down on his face. His eyes bulged as he realized that he was feeling the rain on his face! Lumbering to his face, he looked for his helmet and saw it twenty feet away. He took two steps towards it when suddenly a blast like a bomb went off in his head.

Screaming, he sank to his knees, holding his head as if it was about to explode. Another blast went off in his head, then another, and another. He doubled over, trying to block the deafening noise in his head, but to no avail. He felt his consciousness slip away as the blasts continually came and with one final grunt, he pitched forward onto the ground, unconscious.

Piotr watched the whole exchange with a rather sickened expression. He had no idea what psychic bombs were like, but he guessed that if they downed someone like Juggernaut, they had to be excruciatingly painful. His eyes suddenly flashed as he remembered Jason having been tossed away like a doll before he fought. Looking around, he espied Jason lying on the ground, still. Running towards him, he sank to his knees and shook him, quickly reforming his flesh back to normal. "Jason! Jason, are you all right?"

Jason groaned, his eyes fluttering open. He then shut his eyes tight. "Oh, quieter, please. It's too noisy…quiet thoughts….yes, think quiet thoughts."

Piotr was a little confused at Jason's words. "Are you all right?"

Jason winced, but said. "I just have one hell of a headache. I could use some Excedrin right about now." Jason raised his head to look at Piotr. "Did we win?"

Piotr looked over at Juggernaut's still form. "Yes, we have won."

"Good," Jason sighed.

"_I'll say…,"_ came a rather metallic voice. Piotr and Jason looked up to see Iron Man back on his feet, seemingly admiring his patched up armor. Iron Man looked down at Piotr. _"That was quite a punch, kid."_

Jason worked himself up to a sitting position. "Whatever works, right? Your armor working now?"

"_Self-repairs are nearly complete,"_ came in another metallic—albeit British-sounding—voice. _"Mr. Downs' repairs have accelerated the process by 400 percent."_

"_What he said," _said Iron Man. "JARVIS, call Colonel Fury for a pick up, and tell him it's a big package."

"Understood, sir."

Jason looked around. "What about everyone else? Are they all right?"

The rain immediately led up, and the fog rolled away almost instantly, permitting a clear evening sky to look down upon them. Storm then lowered herself from the skies, looking no worse for wear. "Scott and Kurt are still out of it, but Jean just woke up and nursing a nasty headache of her own. Iceman hung back after his ice wasn't doing any good. Rogue and Kitty are all right."

Jason sighed. "Well, that was fun. Seemed like we need to train a bit harder."

"_Not entirely, Jason,"_ came the Professor's mental voice. _"You all performed admirably. Cain will probably be one of the toughest opponents you have all faced, and you have all performed well. Thankfully, with all your actions, I was able to disable Cain until we can finally contain him again."_

Jason looked up, and had noticed that everyone had a similar look on their face. The Professor had been speaking to all of them. "Yeah…well, hopefully if we have the bad luck to face him again, we'll all be standing next time." Suddenly, Jason looked around. "Wait, what about Logan?"

A trumping sound from nearby answered him. All looked to see a rather haggard-looking Logan—his uniform in tatters—stalking up to them. He was still covered in blood, but his wounds had closed completely. He cracked his shoulders and neck as he looked around him, sighing—which strangely sounded like a _woof_ sound.

Jason blinked. "I guess he's ok."

* * *

><p><em>Xavier Institute for Gifted Children – 7:09 PM, the same day<em>

Dr. Hank McCoy was in the Cerebro room, working on some calibrations that he knew needed to be done. Cerebro was a busy machine on the best of days, and for a purpose this sensitive, frequent recalibrations were a necessity. After receiving the call that Juggernaut had been recaptured—and that the X-Men were en route to Stokes Max-Sec to drop him off—he returned his focus to less stressful things.

He had been afraid of the possibility that Juggernaut would come to the Institute and unleash his unholy rampage here. With so many students here, it would be a catastrophe, not to mention the rampage that Juggernaut would have likely cut through the city to get here. At the same time, he had to wonder how Charles was dealing with this. Cain had always represented one of the most difficult decisions he had ever made in his life, and facing it again had to be hard, not to mention that his own students had suffered at the hands of the Juggernaut. It was probably one of Charles' worst fears realized. However, Hank knew that since the students became X-Men, they had accepted a personal responsibility with the knowledge that any of their assignments would risk their safety a great deal. All they could hope was that in the face of danger, the X-Men would remain vigilant and return in one piece.

Hank removed the glasses from his ape-like face. As he had thought about the risks they all have taken and will take, he had a grim realization that there may come a time that they would have to make a stand, and they would all come out bloodied from the exchange…if they came out at all. Verily, he had a bad feeling that they would soon face a force that would demand lives, and that lives would be given. Hank rubbed his eyes: he just hoped that whenever that day came, it would be later, not sooner.

A few minutes later, Hank finished his calibrations and turned on the computer for Cerebro to begin a system diagnostic. As the monitor flicked to life, a message appeared on the screen. "Hmm?" said the blue-furred mutant. "What is this?" He placed the glasses back over his eyes and read the screen. After a few seconds, his eyes widened. "Oh dear me…"

"_File transfer: 100% complete."_

* * *

><p><em>Stokes County Maximum Security Facility – 8:23 PM<em>

The form of Juggernaut stood motionless inside a pod filled with a greenish liquid, his legs and arms chained to the ground. The mood had been very tense as massive form of Cain Marko was re-chained and placed into the pod, but with the cellular neuroparalytic bio-fluid now completely submerging him, all relaxed.

The Professor sat silent in front of them all, lost in his own thoughts. He himself had placed his own step-brother here, forever sealed away from the world, for the safety of the world. He could still remember the day when he had Cain brought here under complete psychic-provoke paralysis, and locked away in a chamber such as this. It had been the toughest decision he had ever made. On one side, he believed all mutants should be free to choose their own paths. That had changed when Cain Marko left, and Juggernaut returned, a force of furious nature, unstoppable, untamable…unreasonable.

He sat before Cain now, wondering if he still made the right decision. Who was he to really decide the fate of someone? But had he not, what would have become of the world and the worldview of mutants?

"You can't control the will of others, Chuck," came a voice. The Professor turned to see Logan standing next to him, arms crossed. His eyes never left the pod as he continued. "They just do what they want."

The Professor sighed. "And in response, we do what we must."

Behind them, Jason spoke up. "You know if I hadn't met Cain here before, I might have disagreed…but after seeing Cain here…and knowing what we all just went through a few hours ago…I can't help but agree."

The Professor turned his chair around to face Jason. "There will always be a battle of wills in the world; such is nature."

Jason nodded. "But we also have the responsibility to get over our own feelings and do what we need to do, despite our feelings. We'll at least be better men for it. It's just like back at the camp: we had every excuse to not play by the rules, but how different would we be from the Brotherhood, or even Juggernaut, if we listened to what we wanted to do?"

Nearby, Scott, Jean and Piotr had listened in silence, but on their faces, reflections of comprehension etched across each one. The Professor smiled. "I'm glad to see that you knew to rise up to be a better man, Jason."

Jason smiled a bit. "We all did."

No one noticed the smallest of glances Jean made towards Scott, except perhaps Scott.

Logan finally said, "Well, we'd better clear out of here."

"Agreed." The Professor turned to the pod again and keyed in a few commands. The pod slowly sank into the floor, finally disappearing with a clang of finality.

As the others turned and left, Scott finally said. "You know, I have to admit, it felt kind of right."

Piotr looked at Scott. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, despite the fact we lost the race, we still played fair….most of the time anyway."

Jason smiled. "I'm going to say close enough."

"Now if only the Brotherhood would stop drawing lines in the sand and learn that lesson too," Jean said.

"Maybe one day, Jean," said the Professor. "Maybe one day."

"Yeah," Jason agreed. "And who knows? Maybe it will be sooner if Jean becomes their conscience. From what I saw on the mountain, she'd be perfect for it."

Jean shoved Jason playfully. "Haha, shut up! Hey, even good guys and fearless leaders need a nudge in the right direction once in a while."

It was Scott's turn to laugh. "Hey, Jean, if I need a nudge, nudge away."

* * *

><p><em>Oh my flipping goodness, I'm so terribly sorry! 2013 has completely screwed me over with life changes and problems. Got sick again, started therapy, and moving…TWICE! But it's not been all bad. Met someone really awesome and thinks look great for us. Anyway, I will try much harder to get updates more often. <em>

_So, here's a preview of the next chapter:_

_Wolverine begins to be haunted by his past, and when a trip to Canada turns catastrophic, it's up to three young mutants to save Wolverine from the clutches of his past, as well as some homicidal mutants deep in the underground laboratories. Will they be able to save Wolverine, or end up getting an earful from the most talkative foe they've ever faced?_

"Oh, sure, why don't you just SAY so?! I would!"

_Find out next time in __**Chapter 10: Bygones**__._

"Now I better not be waiting ten months for this! It's my debut! Punk…"


	11. Chapter 10: Bygones (Part 1)

**CHAPTER 10:**** Bygones**

* * *

><p><em>Xavier Institute for Gifted Children – Sunday, November 20<em>_th__, 2011 – 7:57 PM_

Jason hung erect and still, head towards the ground and hands fastened tightly to the still rings. After several seconds, Jason twisted his body around up and down, grasping onto the still rings as he flipped and swung, twisting himself around as he pushed and stretched each muscle in his body to its strongest and most flexible limits. He suddenly shifted his mass to keep the ropes from swinging, hoisted up on the rings. He then lowered himself slowly down, locking his arms perpendicular to the form of his body. He had heard that the Iron Cross was one of the most physically demanding gymnastic forms; judging by the way his sweat was pouring over every crevice and rise of his upper body in addition to the way his muscles were quivering under the strain, it had to be true.

After several seconds of holding the cross, he heaved himself further upwards, flipping around and twisting quickly. Suddenly, he dismounted, flipping away from the apparatus and landing in form on the mat below. Striking a concluding pose, he stood for a few seconds before walking towards where he left a bottle full of cold water. Jason had made it a personal point to spend at least an hour or two at a gymnasium three times a week to maintain his flexibility and strength. The two months when he was in and out of hospitals the past spring had nearly destroyed his flexibility, and he had to work very hard the following three months to get much of it back. He had been able to convince Professor Xavier to invest in some gymnastic equipment for the Institute gymnasium. The result was the addition of still rings, a pommel horse, a vault and a pair of parallel bars. Part of the floor was also designated for floor gymnastics, although it really wasn't officially designated. Anyone could use it for whatever they desired, providing they were alert.

Jason sat down at a bench, tiredly twisting the cap off his bottle of water and raising the bottle to his mouth, permitting the blessed cold liquid to course down his throat. Satisfied with the first dose, he lowered the bottle and sighed. Part of him dreaded dragging his body through the ringer like he did, but at the same time, he enjoyed it. Being able to move like he could was rewarding. Only a couple weeks prior, he had gone one-on-one with Juggernaut—which he found out later was the Professor's step-brother—and the only way he managed to stay out of his grip was to keep moving fast enough out of the way. If anything, after that fight he had all the more reason to keep himself in shape.

As he looked across the room, he espied Piotr bench pressing an impressive set of weights. He knew that Piotr was strong, weighing two-hundred and fifty pounds with a fat-muscle ratio of three percent, but his weight-lifting was still impressive to watch. Curiosity got the better of him; he put down his water bottle and walked over to where Piotr was still benching. By the time he got there, Piotr had put the bar back on its supports and he lay there breathing. He soon noticed Jason. "Oh, hello, Jason."

"Hey," Jason sighed. Sitting down at an adjacent bench, he looked at the weights that Piotr had just hung up as his mind added up the number. In seconds, Jason's eyes widened. "Five-hundred pounds?"

"_Da_," Piotr said, sitting up, smiling. "Keep me strong."

Jason scoffed. "I don't think _strong_ begins to describe it. I mean, I always knew you were a heavy-lifter, but I haven't really taken the time to see the exact numbers you are lifting. I calculated my max, and it's only around two-hundred."

"That is good," Piotr said kindly.

Jason laughed. "Well, thank you for saying so." Jason espied the weight set next to him. "Mind spotting for me?"

Piotr nodded. "I will."

Jason smiled. "You mean 'you _won't_'."

Piotr blinked confusedly.

Jason chuckled. "Sorry, just teasing you." Jason stood up. "If you put a fifty and a twenty-five on one side, I'll do the other."

Piotr only sat for a second longer, deciding to not ask about Jason's correction, and got up to set the bells on the bar. As he did, he thought about what happened a couple weeks ago. "Jason?"

Jason had slid the fifty-pound bell into its place on the bar when he heard Piotr. "Yeah?" he breathed.

"Are you healed?"

Jason didn't say anything right away as his mind processed the question. Then he remembered the fact that the tussle with Juggernaut had left three of his ribs bruised. Hank had told him to take it easy for three weeks, but Jason pushed himself back to exercise after one week. His sides hurt, but he ignored the pain. He kept weightlifting to a minimum and focused mostly on gymnastics. While each landing shook his ribcage, creating a fresh wave of pain, he fought it by deep breathing for several minutes and resting between each routine. He wasn't going to allow himself to slide back this time. Jason answered, "I'm ok, Peter. I've been careful with my sides for the last week. I'm sure I can pull it off. Besides, that's one reason why I asked you to spot. If it is too much, you can get it off of me." Jason reached for the twenty-pound weight and lifted it onto the bar, wincing mildly.

Piotr had noticed. "Are you sure?"

Jason looked at Piotr as a mild flash of annoyance crossed his face. He mentally told himself to relax; Piotr was just being a good friend, and he himself needed to confide in his friends more often. The session with the Professor before the mess with Juggernaut was still fresh in his head. Sighing tiredly, he said, "Positive."

Piotr didn't look convinced.

Jason sighed again. "Peter, really, I'm fine…but thank you. I know you're trying to be an awesome friend, and you are." Jason raised a hand to his heart as he smiled gently. "Trust me?"

Piotr closed his eyes. Inwardly he was still worried, but Jason had been getting better at taking his friends' feelings into account. In addition, Jason did say that if he gotten himself in over his head, then Piotr could get the weight off, so to speak. Finally, Piotr relented. "If you say you can…"

Jason smiled pleasantly. "Thank you, Peter."

Piotr blushed slightly but didn't respond as he got himself behind Jason as he lay back on the bench. As he did, Jason thought about what he just said. He had just thanked Piotr for trusting him, and for some reason, that struck him as odd. Before or with anybody else, he'd just say something more quick and succinct, almost as if he was in a rush. As he wrapped his fingers around the bars, he had to wonder what changed. Maybe he was just tired, or perhaps something about him was changing, evolving, right? This was the first thing he really took the time to think about how he was presenting himself to others, or at least when he wasn't thinking about how much he blew it multiple times.

Jason wordlessly lifted the barbell off its rack and began pressing. At once his sides began cramping up as the bruises obviously had some way to heal. He drew upon all willpower to not let the pain show on his face as the bar sank to his chest. He pushed the massive weight up, his face contorting from exertion and pain as he tried to will his ribs to be silent. He snuck a glance at Piotr standing above him, knowing what he would see once he did. He had been right; Piotr's face was laced with concern, especially after seeing Jason clearly struggle in just one rep. Jason felt like swearing; Piotr was almost too spot on when it came to knowing Jason's limits, and it was often annoying. How did he do that? Jason firmed up and let the bar sink again, and pushed it back up. Jason bit his lip; he could have sworn some muscle just moved in his chest that shouldn't have. Another rep and he could feel his mental fortitude beginning to slip. Another; he could barely think now. His face had to be betraying him now.

Jason started pushing up his fifth rep, and then he realized something was wrong: he was half-way up and his muscles refused to obey him. His eyes shot open; what was going on? It was like his limbs had frozen in place. Before he knew it, a surge of panic raced up his spinal column and jolt his brain, flooding his mind with mixed signals all firing next to each other. All he could say was "Get it off get it off get it off…"

Piotr was startled when Jason started talking frantically, but he snapped out of it enough to get the barbell lifted away from Jason. He saw Jason's fingers had locked around the bar itself, but not tight enough that Piotr had to struggle remove the bar. As soon as the bar left Jason's hand, Jason physically relaxed, his arms collapsing down to his sides and his breathing, while quick and gasping, became regular. Emotionally, however, he was distraught, and Piotr could tell. Once putting the bar back on its rack, Piotr quickly got to Jason's side. "Are you all right?"

Jason's breathing slowed, and the panic left his eyes. He looked around the room, finally settling on Piotr. "I…I think so." Twisting his head around to better face his friend, he asked. "Did…did I just have a panic attack?"

Piotr answered. "I do not know."

Jason raised a hand, noting how stiff it felt. He flexed his fingers as if he was unsure how they worked. "Maybe you were right…maybe I wasn't quite ready."

Piotr blinked, a little surprised but relieved. "You did good."

Jason sighed. "Thanks." Jason looked back up at Piotr. "Help me up."

Piotr helped Jason sit up on the bench, and reached for Jason's water as soon as he was up. "Here," he said, handing the water bottle to Jason.

"Thanks," Jason said as he took it. After a few drafts, he sat up. "Well, perhaps I should just call it a night."

"How do you feel?" Piotr asked quickly, startling himself from the assertiveness of the question.

Even Jason had to lean back from the question, but he recovered himself. "Well, honestly, sore and tired. To be honest, I don't know if that's from working out or what just happened." Jason gingerly held his head. "Or maybe I'm just exhausted in general."

Piotr's gaze softened. "Want to talk about it?"

Jason looked up. "Well, I'm not sure if there is anything to talk about. I mean, aside from training, exercise and school, I barely have time to really do anything, let alone relax. Maybe what happened just now was my brain telling me I need a break."

"Well, school is out this week. Perhaps you find time to sleep."

Jason smiled, "Heh, exactly my thoughts." He sighed. "But it's not just that, either. When that…attack, I guess, happened just now, it was a rather painful reminder."

Piotr's brow furrowed. "Of what?"

Jason sighed rather somberly. "Did I tell you about the tests I went under after the…well…" Jason pointed to his scar.

Piotr felt his heart skip. Jason was delving into very uncomfortable territory for himself. It was so painful to recollect that Jason often snapped at people who talked about it with him. "Well…" Piotr said slowly. "No…"

Jason nodded. "Well, I won't go into the details, but the morning after, and the months to follow before I came here, I was put through many tests that looked at my brain; MRIs, CT-scans, blah-blah, you get the idea. Each test tried to see if my brain was further damaged by what happened. In June, once all was said and done, I saw a neurologist regarding the results. I found out my case was referred to a doctor at the Mayo Clinic in Minnesota, and while I wasn't given an official diagnosis, they said that the probability of me coming down with Charcot's Syndrome or something like it in the future was possible. Parts of my brain weren't repairing, and there are a lot of scars inside. They think my immune system may be attacking the healthy cells alongside the dead or dying ones. It's called an autoimmune disease, where your immune system starts attacking itself or good parts of the body. In my case, my brain."

As Piotr listened, his expression grew more and more concerned. "I…I did not know."

Jason sighed. "It's ok. You would know the truth sooner or later. But yeah, it's rather scary. Charcot's Syndrome I found out is pretty similar to a disease called Lou Gehrig's disease." Jason continued rather robotically. "Rapid progressing weakness, muscle atrophy, difficulty swallowing and breathing, the list goes on. People with Lou Gehrig's usually last only a few years."

Piotr tensed at that revelation.

Jason knew he needed to calm him down fast. "Hold on, Piotr. Odds are I won't get Lou Gehrig's. People my age very rarely get Lou Gehrig's, even a brain as severely hurt as mine was. You can relax."

Piotr physically relaxed, but his eyes were still concerned. "When will you know?"

Now Jason tensed, albeit slightly. "Well, the doctor back home said that until we see some sort of new progression, none of us will know." Jason looked away. "Most of the time, I forget that possibility even exists, especially the longer time has passed since this past April…but once in a while, I get these little reminders." Jason looked back. "Anyway, sorry for dragging you through all that. Must have been pretty nasty-sounding."

"No," Piotr said, shaking his head. "I am happy you did."

That initially stunned Jason, but he smiled. "Well…thanks for saying that." Jason sighed again. "Well, I think I'm just going to call it a night. You're going to work out some more?"

Startled by the change of subject, Piotr forced his mind to catch up. "Oh—uh, _da_."

"Ok, we'll I'll see you back in the room, if I'm not asleep yet. Later!"

"_Spokoynoy nochi_," Piotr replied.

Jason didn't understand Piotr's Russian, but he had a good idea what it meant. He got up and left the gym room, and made his way to the elevator to take him back to the main floors. As he went, his mind wandered to Piotr. While enough people here were often genuinely interested in what Jason had to say, Piotr seemed to go out of his way to listen to him. He wasn't annoyed by that at all, to be sure; truth be told, he found it quite exhilarating.

Jason's mind froze. Exhilarating? Why in the world did he feel that way? He had shared his thoughts with the Professor and Jean before; they were there at his bedside in the hospital even before Piotr was, but it didn't feel the same. It was liberating to talk to the Professor and Jean, but lately, he found himself more than able to talk to Piotr with his problems. In fact, he felt like he would rather go to Piotr first. Was it because he was best friends with Piotr, sharing some special camaraderie because of their own pasts? Or was it something else entirely?

Jason made it to the elevator, feeling rather sweaty, but not from exercise. To be honest, he felt a bit cold. "Jason," he said to himself. "You really should get to bed." He pressed a button and the doors closed in front of him.

XXXXXXXXXX

"_The subject is loose! All units are to subdue Weapon X! Subdue Weapon X!"_

A man ran down the halls, wearing nothing but broken tubes that hung from parts of his flesh. Lights blared all around him as strange voices shouted from the walls themselves, looking for something called Weapon X. What was that? Was that him? Who was he? There was no name, there was no past; there was only a desire to run and kill, kill whatever got in his way.

One person got in his way, and he rushed at him. Before the person could even aim his gun, he had cut him down. As he looked down at the body at his feet, something alarmed him. How did he know he could do that? As he looked at his hands, he saw three metal claws sprouting out of his bleeding knuckles, burning from heat. What were these? How did he get them? How did he know how to kill?

He began to run again. More and more people threw themselves at him, and each time, his mind told him to kill and kill again. Somehow, someway, he burst out of this world of walls, blood and noise…only to dive into a world of darkness, cold and snow. The wind blasted at his flesh like frozen needles. And instinct was driving him to go back, but he did not want to go back to the world of walls and blood. He kept running, stumbling over rocks and roots, each one tearing into him. The pain was agonizing, but no matter how much he bled or froze, something rebuilt him. What matter of curse drove him here only to forever live in pain?

Before he could answer his own question, he smelled something. Sniffing around, he smelled something. Something had followed him. Whipping around, he saw a creature with eyes that seemed to glow with hate. It reminded him of a bear…or a lion…what were those?

Snarling like a jungle cat, the beast pounced at him, and the man dodged aside. His mind told him to kill it. Whipping out the claws from his hands, he snarled and leaped at him.

Logan's head hit the floor hard, snapping him awake. He lay there momentarily stunned as his mind raced to make sense of the information his senses were telling him. He was on a carpeted floor that smelled of himself and carpet cleaner. His ears heard no sound save for a ticking clock on the wall. His skin felt a cold but gentle wind lick across it. His eyes saw a window with curtains flowing in the wind.

As his mind continued to process where he was, he stood up. He could see he was still in his room back at the Institute, and judging by the cold air and equally cold light coming through the window, it was a late frosty night in the last days of autumn. He wasn't running through the woods; he wasn't fighting some beast in the woods. Why would he be? He was never there, right?

Logan sat on his bed, rubbing his head. He had run through those woods so many times in his dreams that he might as well have run the snowy ground in the waking world; what bothered him the most was that something in his adamantium-layered bones was telling him that he had once. Logan had lived his life trusting his instincts, and they were as sharp as his claws…and many times had been right. He must have seen that place before in life, but his memory was a complete blank slate.

Logan got up and walked out of his room, determined for the lower levels. He needed to slice something up, and the Danger Room was the only thing that would appease him for the moment.

XXXXXXXXXX

_Tuesday, November 22__nd__, 2011 – 7:05 AM_

The buzzing alarm continually tried to assault Kitty's ears, beckoning her to wake up from deep slumber. Kitty stirred, trying to ignore the din of the alarm clock, but it would not be ignored. Finally, Kitty reached for the alarm, but phased her hand through the clock. At once, the clock died before her fingers reached the switch. Kitty looked up from her pillow, and groaned. Her phasic powers disrupted electron flow within electronic circuits, and thus short-circuited them. While unharmed, the interruption cut all power. Kitty groaned again; that was one part of her powers that she kept forgetting, only remembering it when she intends to short something out.

She crawled out of bed, trying not to look at the mirror as she headed out the room and down the hall to the bathroom. She did not want to deal with the monster in the mirror as it were. She wasn't sure how she even managed to know which door was the bathroom door; her eyes were obviously still asleep. She wasn't even sure how she managed to have the concentration to phase through the door and not through the door in her sleepy stupor. She _was _sureshe backpedaled right back through the door when she saw that the room was already occupied. Despite her quick retreat, the door swung open, revealing a frazzled and irked Rogue. "What's the matter with you, Kat? The sign says 'occupied'; the door was locked."

Kitty didn't even notice the sign that plainly spelled "OCCUPIED" was hanging from the doorknob, but it certainly was there. Feeling properly embarrassed at the revelation of such an oversight, all she could do was say, "Well, who can really read at this hour?"

Rogue slammed the door shut.

Now alone in the hallway, Kitty looked sourly at the door as if the incident was its fault. "Touchy…"

All she could do now was just get back to her room and wait. She then realized she didn't want to change yet; she hadn't taken a shower because a sourpuss was in the bathroom. God only knew how long it would take for her to get done in there, and she certainly didn't want to change into clean clothes when she hadn't showered yet. _"Like, eww!"_

She conceded to go back to her room and start writing an email to her parents. Giving that Thanksgiving was just around the bend and that they were on Fall Break, she more or less had the week free, aside from working on a term paper. Still, that could wait. Sitting on her bed, she pulled her laptop from her desk and waited patiently for it to go through its activation. After due process, she logged into her email account and pondered what she was going to write to her parents. Surely they would like to hear how she was doing. Could she write about her friends here at the Institute? It would give her something to talk about, at least.

Her fingers flying across the keyboard, she began her email. _"Dear Mom and Dad, I'm sorry for not finding the time to write you in a while. It's been crazy busy here with school and everything, plus we just got a whole bunch of new people at the Institute. Well, I could spend all day talking to you about them, but I'd rather just get through today. Today started just like any other day, really, with everyone feeling a little crowded. Guess with twenty of us here that can't be helped; just saying, really. I'm definitely feeling it today…"_

Just then, Rogue came back into the room, not looking at all at Kitty. Kitty glanced at her annoyed, but decided to just continue on with her email.

"_That can be especially true when rooming with a roommate like Rogue. I didn't tell you much about her, but that's because I never got close enough to really get to know her. She can be a bit thorny…"_ Her fingers faltered here a bit as her conscience tapped her shoulder saying that was hardly fair. Sighing mentally, she added. _"Although that's not her fault. Her gift makes it really hard for anyone to get close to her. I don't really know anyone who really tried to get to know her…"_

Just then, Rogue dug out a hair dryer and began drying her hair. The noise distracting her, Kitty put down her computer, sighing. She couldn't even get two minutes to write down her thoughts without things distracting her? Getting up, she merely contended to get her shower done so she could finally change. Gathering up her toiletries, she left the room.

She walked right into many of the members at the Institute walking past her towards the bathroom, trying to get their own showers in. She had to will herself not to make her exasperation obvious. The only place that really had an available shower was the communal ones in the basement, usually reserved for use after Danger Room sessions. She hated using those; really impersonal. However, it was either using those showers or wait for the long haul to use the upstairs showers. Sighing to herself, she phased through the floor. It was Tuesday and it felt like it was still Monday.

XXXXXXXXXX

Jason lateral-raised each dumbbell in each hand as Piotr rested nearby. His ribs felt much better today and he felt right as rain enough to continue where he left off last night. He felt the muscles in his upper shoulders clench every time he lifted. He continued lifting until he was satisfied with the number of times he repped, as it were.

Putting the weights down, he noticed the sweat was covering his tank top, and he could feel it cling to his body. The mirror was directly across from him, so he looked at himself. Shrugging, he crossed his arms and grabbed the bottom hems of his shirt. Pulling up, he pulled off the clinging sweaty shirt off of him and put it down on the bench nearby. He then looked at his shirtless self in the mirror, admiring how well his muscles have developed. Instantly, he began flexing his chest and abdominal muscles, admiring how well they were defining. Looks like his work was paying off; smiling, he said, "Oh yeah, I look good."

He hadn't noticed Piotr had stood up and came up to him. Strange that he didn't even notice him in the mirror until he looked twice. Piotr too was shirtless, and compared to Piotr's own build, Jason felt small. However, Piotr placed his hands on Jason's shoulders and said, "_Da_, you look good."

For some reason, Jason didn't feel awkward about that at all. In fact, he liked it. "Yeah, I look good."

"You look great."

"I do, don't I?"

"Yes, you do."

They both just admired each other in the mirror as the sweat glimmered in the light. Jason didn't move as Piotr inched a bit closer and one of Piotr's hands slowly slipped off Jason's shoulder and down Jason's chest and stomach. Jason still didn't move as the hand came back up slowly. "I am good, ain't I?"

"You are."

Finally, Jason looked at Piotr. "You're good too."

"Really?"

"Yes, really."

They simply stared at each other, and the gravity was taking over. Piotr slowly inched closer and Jason didn't turn away. They were inches away from each other now, and Jason just closed his eyes and waited. Jason's eyes fluttered back open and saw the ceiling above him, and for some reason felt very relaxed and happy, although his sleepy head wasn't sure why he was. All he could think of was how it must have been a really good dream.

He jolted awake as images of the dream flashed back to his mind, wiping the smile off his face. His mind crashed completely and all he could salvage was that his eyes were open so wide that they could fall out of his head right now. What kind of dream was that? And was he…? Jason pulled up the blankets so he could look down at himself. He was wrong; he _could_ in fact open his eyes wider. "What in the actual—?" he began to say.

"Jason?"

"FUCK!" Jason screamed, gathering the blanket to cover himself as his eyes stared wildly at the intruder. His eyes locked on at Piotr, clad only in a tank top and boxers, freshly coming back from the showers. Piotr looked just as surprised at Jason as Jason was at seeing him. All they could so was stare at each other, petrified in startled shock.

"What is wrong?" Piotr said, holding his shampoo and body wash against himself.

Jason continued to stare and didn't even more, despite the fact that his face was twisted in such a bizarre position. Finally, he just shook his head. "Weirdest. Dream. Ever."

That perplexed Piotr enough to relax. "You…want to talk?"

The dream flashed freshly back to Jason's mind, and Jason quickly tried to squash it. "No, not at all. I think what I need is a shower. That should calm me down. Damn it!" Jason flinched as he realized how that may have sounded.

Thankfully, Piotr didn't seem to notice the double entrendre, but what he did hear only added to his confusion. "Are you all right?"

Jason stealthily arranged himself under the covers so that the obvious wouldn't be obvious once he stood up. Breathing, he allowed himself to calm down. "Yeah, sorry, Peter. I just had this really weird dream and woke up really quickly because of it. I just need a relaxing shower to…" Jason considered his words, trying to avoid another awkward innuendo. "…to wake me up a little less…crazily."

Piotr still looked perplexed, but decided to let it go. "All right. I will see you at breakfast then, _da_?"

"_Da_," Jason replied, shaking his head at his own response.

As Jason got up himself, Piotr peeled off the tank top to change into a sweater. Jason forced himself to look away as the dream came surging back. _"I got to get out of here. Cold shower, cold shower…"_

Jason quickly grabbed his own toiletries—occasionally dropping them—and tried to avoid looking at Piotr at all as he changed. When he finally escaped the room, he allowed himself to slow down and lean against the wall to breathe. What in the world happened in his head as he slept? Why in the world would that even happen? Jason shook his head out, trying to banish the images. It was just a dream. That's what it was; just a dream.

"Jason?"

At once, Jason tensed and saw Jean coming back from her own shower, but stopped to see Jason just standing there. Jason sighed relieved. "Geez, Jean, don't scare me like that."

"What's the matter?"

Jason just looked at Jean. "One weirdass dream."

Jean blinked. "Must have been quite a doozy."

"You have no idea," Jason said automatically, but then hastily added as an idea came to him. "And don't get any funny ideas."

"Wasn't going to," Jean said. "Your head's enough of a mess on a good day, so I won't bother seeing what it was."

"Thanks…I think."

"Anytime." Jean walked away. "Better hurry up, Jason. You overslept and breakfast is pretty soon."

"Duly noted." Jason turned away and walked towards the bathroom, relieved. He was half-afraid that Jean would automatically see what the dream was about. He chastised himself for it; he trusted Jean and the Professor enough to stay out of his head, or at least stay out enough to not accidentally provoke some of the less desirable memories. Those particular memories weren't friendly to him. At least his dream—whatever it was—was far less violent.

He then noticed that the dream had already faded from his memory, and now he was wondering why he felt so awkward just now. "Good grief, Jason. You really need to stop embarrassing yourself, or else you might end up doing something _really_ weird."

XXXXXXXXXX

Some time later, Kitty managed to get ahead of the impending mob in the kitchen to continue her email. Despite her preference to be alone, she had accepted the presence of Logan sitting quietly on the window seat reading the paper. If anything, Logan respected privacy and solitude more than anyone in the Institute. Even then, she was all too aware of his presence as he read in silence.

"_The truth really is that finding some time alone from everyone is really just a matter of timing, and most of the time you just have to take what you can get."_ Glancing at Logan, she continued. _"For instance, if I'm sitting in the same room with Logan, that's about as quiet as it will ever be. That's because he doesn't really want to talk to anyone himself. Right now, that's just fine, but sometimes…"_

Logan suddenly shot an eye at Kitty. Apparently he had noticed the side glances he was receiving. Smirking slightly, he turned to Kitty. "What's the matter, Half-Pint? Am I reading too loud for you?"

Chuckling nervously, Kitty responded. "Oh, no. I just like the silence."

The door burst open allowing the first wave of the Institute students in, all rummaging for breakfast. Order could not establish as the breakfast was a free-for-all; each one getting each dish when they thought about it. All Kitty could do was just sit there as the chaos continued unabated.

Late to the party was Jason, his hair still wet from showering. "What, did I miss breakfast?"

Scott looked up as he hastily scooped up some scrambled eggs. "You still might."

Jason hissed a curse and dove for the plates.

Kitty couldn't imagine why she just lost her appetite at witnessing this spectacle, but she did imagine the answer lay somewhere in the spectacle, quite possibly somewhere between the eggs and the sausage.

"So, Jason, what's this I hear about some project your helping with in the hangar?" asked Scott.

"You're working on something down there?" Kurt said, all ears. "Tell me!"

Jason laughed, but abruptly cut it short. "No; I'm on confidentiality, and I better not see you porting down there, Kurt. Won't do you any good."

"What? Why?"

Jason crossed his arms. "My part's already done and it's all tucked away in Storage Room XB."

There was a collective moan from the senior members of the Institute, Kurt especially. "Aw, bummer."

Bobby, however, was clueless. "Mind filling us in?"

Scott said as he turned on the TV, "Storage Room XB is where the Professor's biggest projects go, and he puts them there when he doesn't want us to know about them yet. If it's there, it means it's being worked on when we aren't around. The storage room is basically a vault, practically unbreachable. It's also lined with electric sensors that will trip if someone even just phases through the wall."

Kitty had not been listening so didn't respond.

"What could be so big that it has to keep in something like that?" Bobby said.

Jason smiled. "What indeed?"

Tabitha was on him like in an AXE commercial. Wrapping her arms around Jason's arm, she cooed, "Oh, spill it, Jason. I know you want to…"

Jason pursed his lips as he smiled. "Neither horses, chains nor feminine wiles will drag that secret out of me, because I don't really have anything enlightening to tell. All I can tell you was that it was a messy job, that's it."

"Oh, I'm sure I can think of something…" Tabitha said.

"Wait, pipe down everyone. Something's on the tube," Bobby said.

Everyone piped down as the news began talking about seeing some strange creature roaming deep in the Canadian forests. Campers around Alkali Lake and Mt. Makenna had encountered some kind of trail of a creature they never seen before, and whatever it was, it was violent.

As footage of the carnage flashed on the screen, some of the others murmured their thoughts. Others were more aloud, Jason for one. "Good grief, what could have caused that?"

"I don't know," Scott said. "I'm just glad it's up there and not—" He was immediately cut off as Logan—who had been watching in silence—suddenly got up and breezed past them.

Jason called out after him. "Logan?" He looked down the hall after him for a while, and turned right back. "What was that all about?"

Jean shrugged. "I have no idea."

Jason ventured, "You think someone should check up on him?"

While some stood stunned and others debated what to do next, Kitty took advantage of the interruption in the chaos to write another passage in her email. _"…but sometimes he can be totally rude about it, you know? I mean, Professor Xavier always tells us that we need to work together since we're one big family here at the Institute. Seems like Mr. Logan didn't get the same speech. He often goes on his lone wolf things, and it's just annoying. It's not like his life is so much harder than ours…"_

Meanwhile, Logan wasn't sure where he was going, but he needed to get there in a hurry. He suddenly felt this bloodthirsty rage boil inside him, and he wanted to slash something until it either was in pieces or it bleed to death. Why? He couldn't understand it; he hadn't felt this feral in years. Was he regressing? What if he hurt someone here at the Institute?

His head exploded as images of being submersed in a tub of liquid with tubes coming out of him in every place imaginable. He could see he was surrounded by scientists, but one that stood out was one bald scientist as thin as a skeleton, his pale withered face framed by peering down over him. He clawed at the oxygen mask covering his face and ripped it off. Foul-tasting liquid poured into his mouth and nostrils, and he leapt up from the mess of tubes and fluids. His claws popped out of his hand and struck at the creepy man in the glasses.

His claws pierced the wood of the door, and as they sunk into the wood, Logan distinctly heard someone swear to the Most High. The voice snapped him out of his hallucination enough to calm down and open the door to see who it was. On the opposite side of the hall was Jason, wide-eyed and bracing the wall. Judging by Jason's posture, Logan guessed his claws came very close to piercing his skull.

Jason gulped. "Logan…are you ok?" he said slowly, as if consoling an injured animal.

The tone was not lost on Logan's part, but because Jason was still very new to the Institute, he bit his tongue. "Yeah…" He closed the door behind him. "Redecorating…" He then wandered off.

Jason looked back at the door, where three glaring slices now decorated the door. Jason blew out a sigh. "Weird stuff is happening to me too much today…"

XXXXXXXXXX

After breakfast, Kitty found a spot in a tree near the garage to get some privacy so she could continue with the letter. _"The others at the Institute kind of swing back and forth; you know, some are really nice and others can be jerks, mostly the newer ones."_ Kitty looked down to her right to see both Jason and Scott working on Scott's stylish car. Kitty was far enough away that she couldn't hear them conversing, and that was fine by her. _"One of the newer guys though is pretty nice some of the time. His name is Jason, and while most of the time, he's pretty nice and smart, but other times he can be quite a jerk. I can't blame him though; I found out a few months ago that he got chewed up in a tornado before coming here, so I hear he's pretty messed up in the head."_ Kitty chose her next words carefully. _"Now, I say that, but he's not a bad guy. Just a lot of bad things have happened to him, and he tries hard and does apologize; it's just hard to know what aggravates him, you know?_"

Kitty moved her stiffening shoulders before continuing. _"Then there's Scott, and he's the responsible one of all of us. He really tries to be too, and I think he's doing it for the Professor, seeing himself as a team leader. Other times though, he is just like a high schooler."_

A roar of a car engine and a blast of rock radio music nearly blew Kitty and her computer out of the tree. Steadying herself, she saw Scott drive off, leaving a smiling Jason behind. Even Kitty herself had to admit that the timing of Scott's takeoff was amusing as she wrote, _"And today, he's just like a high schooler."_

"Hey, Kitty! Are you ok?"

Kitty looked down and saw that Jason noticed her. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just trying to finish something here, you know."

Jason nodded understandingly. "Well, I'll let you get back to it but I need to ask. Have you seen Logan lately?"

"Not since breakfast. Why?"

Jason shrugged. "I was wondering if he could help me with something, but it's ok. Sorry to bother you." With that, he left for the Institute.

Kitty looked after Jason as he headed back, wondering what Jason was wanting Logan for. After what they saw just this morning, she had to question the sanity of anyone who was willing to find the guy who could slice off someone's limb. She continued to type, _"I could go on and on about all the others at the Institute, but that would take a book. I'm sure you guessed at this point that it can be quite a circus keeping everything organized around here. Thank goodness for someone like Professor Xavier. Along with Storm and Mr. McCoy, he's the main reason why any of us haven't gone to the nuthouse yet."_

She heard the subtle whirr of mechanical wheels from nearby. Looking over to her left, she saw the Professor rolling up to where some stone benches surrounded a circular flat. He was accompanied by Logan. At once, Kitty closed her laptop and proceeded to leave the two alone. Whenever the Professor wanted to speak with someone, he expected a small grain of privacy. It was only decent, after all.

Kitty threw herself out of the tree, partially phasing herself into the ground to avoid a nasty impact. She had been practicing a means to jump off heights that would normally maim or kill anyone else by sinking into the ground. Because of her corporeal intangibility, she could turn even the hardest of earth into a pillow and simply rise back out of it. Early in her exercises, she had to curb her fear of continually sinking into the earth. It was a personal nightmare of hers that she could get to a point where she'd regress to a point where she's become permanently intangible and sink into the center of the earth, assuming she'd survive the plunge through the magma-filled mantle. Despite gaining a very solid control of her powers through the instruction of the Professor, it was a morbid fear she still possessed. However, it was more of a latent fear now more than an actual terror. Just the same, the thought of it still jarred her.

Rising out of the ground as if it were a cloud, she clutched her computer as she walked towards the Institute. Maybe she could find some privacy of her own in the hangar. Rarely anyone ventures down there, even fewer into the actual Blackbird itself while it sat there unless it was being maintained. Unless Jason's secret project had something to do with the Blackbird—which she doubted—she should be able to finish things up there.

Back at the clearing, the Professor had asked Logan to come outside to get away from the others so what he could say would not be overheard, in addition to avoiding further property damage. He had already sent word to Jason to transmute the door back to its original form. As Logan paced back and forth in front of him, the Professor had been aware of Logan's growing aggression for a while, although this recent bout was unusual. Logan usually could tell ahead of time when his primal instincts were starting to get too much for him, and when they did, he hit the open road to allow his lone wolf instincts to refocus. Now, however, they were spiking well beyond tolerance, and Logan had every look of a caged animal. Something this sudden had to have been provoked, and the Professor was bound to discover what it was.

"You have been very anxious this morning, Logan," the Professor said calmly, watching the pacing Logan with a watchful eye. "You may wish to know that Jason has already repaired the state of your chambers."

Logan sniffed. "Tell the kid, 'thanks'."

The Professor crossed his fingers together. "What is bothering you, Logan."

It was at that moment, Logan robotically sat down. "Hell if I know, Chuck. There's…there's something digging around in my head. I don't know what it is, but…but that news story in the kitchen had to have set it off."

"Then let's talk about it." The Professor pulled up a bit closer, which was in itself a daring move. "I managed to glance at the news report myself, something about a raging animal suspected of tearing apart camps in Canada."

"Yeah…that's the one." At this point, Logan was visibly perspiring. "Chuck, it's like there's something inside of me trying to get out. I felt it before…but I don't know where. It's like I want to…" Logan cut himself off. He was starting to get very uncomfortable beyond his current bestial aggression. "Ngh, I can't even think right now! How about you get inside and work it loose?"

The Professor's brow sank. "Logan, your mind isn't a box that can just be opened. It's more like a beehive of thoughts, feelings and functions, all networked to each other somehow. Whatever is working through your mind right now probably needs to work itself loose on its own."

Logan grimaced. "I don't care, Chuck! All I need is a little help figuring it out."

"Logan, I don't think you fully grasp the seriousness of your request. Your blocked memory is like a blood clot. Working parts of it loose, however small, would be akin to a thrombosis breaking off and lodging elsewhere. I'm sure you have heard how potentially fatal that can be. This could push you into catatonia."

"I can heal better than anyone, Chuck. I'll bounce back. Now do it!"

The Professor regarded Logan for a second. Logan's uncharted healing factor often made Logan careless about his personal health, both mentally and physically. After decades of testing his own body against anything thrown at him, it has made him quite cavalier. What Logan didn't understand was the mind, no matter how ironclad, could not heal nearly so fast, if at all. The mind was like a glass vase; even after reassembling the pieces, the cracks are still visible. There was no completely repairing the mind after it has broken. The Professor was all too familiar with that. However, there was almost no arguing with Logan when he gets this way.

Sighing, the Professor said, "All right, but please try to relax. If your thoughts are too crowded, I could either fail or unleash something worse."

Logan sighed, which sounded a lot like a growl. "Easy for you to say."

The Professor raised a hand to his temple, closed his eyes, and dived. His comparison to a beehive was apt, but even beehives weren't usually _this_ intensely bustling. He remembered diving into Jason's mind before Hurricane Irene threatened the city, and he had encountered something like a vault door that was banging from the inside, as if something was trying to get out. In Logan's mind, there were walls upon walls of vault doors, all seemingly bulging, as if each one had some ravenous animal trying to escape.

One particular bang got his attention, and his mental-self flew towards it. Before he even got there, he could see the hinges of the door were not attached. Logan was right; something was coming loose. He peered through the crack and he saw a rather wizened man in a dark lab coat with glasses that seemed more a part of his eyes than actually aiding them. He soon realized he was looking at him through what looked like water as bubbles shot upwards across his vision. The scientist looked at him with a cruel scrutinizing glare.

The Professor shot back into the real world as he felt something kick him out. His eyes flashed open and he saw Logan reeling backwards as if someone had just smashed his face with a bat. The Professor stay tensely silent as Logan regained his composure. As Logan sat back forward, the Professor could count every bead of sweat on his head. "Hngh, tell me that's just a dream or something."

"Not likely," the Professor said. "It was resonating far too strongly for a simple dream. It was a repressed memory trying to resurface. You were right; something is trying to re-emerge. There's something more to it though, but I can't place it." The Professor's brow sank again. "I may need another look."

Logan sniffed audibly. "Go for it."

The Professor dove back in again and quickly zoomed in on the offending memory again, and he was back in the dark laboratory, staring upwards through the waters to the man again. Only this time, everything was frozen in a colorless null time. The Professor emerged from the waters and stepped out of the containment vessel. He looked around and saw that the scientist wasn't alone: there was a whole team of them, even a few people that appeared to be military personnel. He tried to get a better look at them, but all he could make out was a last name.

Stryker.

Again, he felt himself kicked out of the world, and he awoke back in the real colorful world. This time, Logan was hunched over, the sweat pouring off his head. "Logan, are you all right?"

At once, Logan rose up. "Yeah…yeah…I saw something there. I remember that place…but I don't know where. That ghoul with the glasses…he was the one who did this to me." He shot out his adamantium claws.

The Professor knew that there was more to his whole thing than that, but he knew this for sure: whatever happened there made Logan into the man he was. If they could find that place, they might be able to unravel the truth about Logan and his forgotten past. "I believe you are right. I wasn't able to see much, but I caught a few glimpses. However, I fear there is even more to this. Your mind is a complex nexus of forgotten memories, and this happens to be the one to re-emerge? Something is wrong, here."

"Yeah, there is…" Logan stood up. "And I need to ride."

"You're going to Alkali Lake, are you?"

Logan peered down at the Professor. "Got that from looking in my head?"

The Professor ignored the shot. "You will need backup."

"Do I ever?" Logan trod past the Professor.

The Professor was left alone, but his mind was occupied. His mind flashed to that laboratory, and to that one man whom he happened to catch the last name: Stryker. Who is Stryker? How was he involved in whatever made Logan into the being he was today? Why did that name sound familiar? There were a lot of questions and nary an answer for any of them. On top of it all, there was still one thing. The Professor managed to see that even before the newscast, Logan had been having reoccurring dreams about the same thing very recently. Either one by itself was innocent enough, but two so close together? Maybe a coincidence…

If it was, why was the Professor so uncomfortable about this?

XXXXXXXXXX

Kitty managed to find some solitude in the hangar, or rather more specifically the cargo area of the Blackbird. Reasoning that since the only time anyone was ever around the Blackbird was for takeoff or maintenance. As it turned out, Jason had come back down to the hangar himself and was doing some clean-up on the maintenance tools and repairing some of the broken ones, but he was outside of the jet and not bothering anyone. Kitty snuck on to the jet so she could finally have some time for herself.

"_That all being said, I do like it here. It's just the little things that come up that can be annoying. You know what I mean. Anyway, I think I better finish this letter up before Kurt decides to pop up. He loves to do that, and it's really annoying. Kind of creepy too."_

_**BAMF! **_Kurt appeared out of a blast of sulfurous smoke, startling Kitty. "Kurt!" she exclaimed.

"There you are!" Kurt said, smiling. "We were wondering where you went!"

Kitty closed her laptop impudently. "I only wanted just a few minutes to myself. Is that like too much to ask?"

"What's going on in there?" came a voice. Jason then came into the cargo hold, and at once grimaced at the smell of brimstone. "Ugh, I thought I heard a bamf-noise."

Kurt bowed gracefully. "_Danke schön, Herr Scar."_

Jason sighed. "Again with the scar. While I don't heal like Logan does, scars do heal eventually. What are you guys going to call me when it fades in the next thirty years?"

One of Kurt's eyebrows shot up. "I would think we would have other things to worry about."

"Ugh, isn't anyone like considering my problems here?"

Kitty's outburst silenced Jason and Kurt. For a few moments, all they could do was stand, blink and stare. "Not to be _that_ guy," Jason started slowly. "But what's up with you, Kitty?"

Before she could answer, the plane jolted, nearly throwing them all to the floor. Steadying themselves, Kurt said what was all on their minds. "What's going on?"

Jason braced himself against a wall. "I think we're moving…but who's flying?"

"I'll go check," Kurt said.

"Kurt, if we're about to take off, walking across the plane is a bad idea. You'll totally be sent flying right back into a wall!"

Jason sat down against a nearby seat and buckled in. "Right, level out first, and then we talk to the pilot."

Kurt and Kitty strapped themselves in, and just in time as they all felt the gentle vertigo of the plane quickly approaching takeoff speed. "But why are we even taking off? Where are we going?"

Jason made a look at Kurt. "Asked if we have a clue. Ergo, let's ask the pilot when we level out."

All waited in silence as the plane continued to accelerate, and then blastoff into the sky as they felt inertia pull them downwards. Several more minutes past before all could feel inertia's grip release on each of them. Jason sighed, unbuckling himself. "I think we're good now."

Kitty and Kurt undid their own seatbelts. "Well, let's find out what's going on!"

The three slid the door open and saw an empty line of seats, save for the captain's seat in the cockpit far across from them. The pilot was too short to see his head, but they could see his right arm well enough.

Jason squinted. "I think that's Logan flying," he whispered, although he wasn't exactly sure why he was.

"Why would Logan be flying the Blackbird?" Kitty said the same way.

"Why are we all whispering?" Kurt said, whispering as well.

"I don't know!" Jason hissed.

"Come on, it's just Logan," Kurt replied normally, startling Jason and Kitty. "Let's just ask him."

Kitty suddenly felt something was amiss. "I don't think that's a good idea, Kurt. He's been acting all mega-weird all morning."

"She's right," Jason said, remembering the slashed door he had just fixed earlier that day. "Something's been bugging Logan all day. Perhaps now is not a good time."

"Come on, don't be so dramatic. No offense, Jason," Kurt said, none the wiser. "It's just Logan. He's not going to hurt us." He proceeded towards the cockpit."

"Kurt," Kitty hissed. "Wait!"

Despite the situation, Jason looked stung. "Did he just call me 'dramatic'?"

Kurt was deaf to Kitty's calls, and walked right up to Logan in the chair. "Hey, Logan!"

Logan whipped around in his seat and shot a clawed fist at Kurt's face. Kurt's reflexes saved him as the claws shot right past his ears, nearly slicing them right off.

"Shit!" Jason swore, bracing himself against the doorframe.

"Kurt!" Kitty called. "Are you all right?"

Kurt was petrified, still looking at the claws that nearly sliced his head. Logan hadn't moved either, and a wild look was carved into his face, as if he had regressed into his namesake. Finally, Logan relaxed some, but it still looked like he was fighting some primal instinct. The claws retracted and a heavy hand rested on Kurt's shoulder, snapping Kurt out of his shock. "Uh…is this seat taken?"

Logan continued to pant.

"My mistake, sorry!" Kurt quickly said, teleporting right back to Jason's and Kitty's side.

"Nice going, Kurt," Jason said. "'Dramatic', my ass."

The rest of them looked warily as Logan returned laboringly to his seat. "Engage…autopilot."

"_Autopilot engaged."_

The seat slid back and Logan got up, turned around and began walking towards the three, who backed up away from the door.

"Why…are you following me?!" he growled angrily.

Jason gulped audibly. "We didn't mean to! I had heard Kurt and Kitty on the place just before takeoff and I went up to check—"

"I was just trying to find Kitty—"

"And I was trying to find a quiet—"

Logan began to growl, silencing them all, and it looked like he was fighting himself within. The claws shot back out. Kurt grabbed Jason and Kitty and teleported them back to the back side of the room. "I think we made him angry…"

All three sat as Logan continued to squirm on his feet. "Got to…got to take you back…before…" Logan suddenly screamed as he fell to his knees.

"What do we do?" Kitty said.

"I have no idea…" Jason said.

"Agh, there's something in my body…I can't control it!" Logan said, suffering more spasms. "Can't…be trusted…" Summoning all willpower he had, he reached up for a console and pressed a series of buttons. The door began to slide shut, but not before he clawed at the door, leaving a trio of deep gash as it shut completely.

All three stared at the row of claw marks in the door. Jason allowed himself to breathe. "Oh my god, that was insane."

"He locked us out!" Kurt said. "What are we going to do?"

"No…" Kitty said, picking herself up. "He shut himself in. He did it to protect us."

"Hello?!" Kurt said. "There's a crazy person flying the plane! You call that safe?"

"For now," Jason said, beginning to calm. "Logan is running on pure survival instinct right now. I doubt he'll crash the plane. Whatever's going on, he's trying to stay alive."

"What's going on?" Kurt said.

"I don't know," Jason said. "But I think it had something to do with that TV news report we saw at breakfast. Something about an animal in the Canadian wilderness?"

"Why would something like that make Logan go crazy?"

"Beats me," Jason sat down. "I guess we'll find out soon enough."

"Can't we just teleport back down to the surface?"

"Uh, ok, picture this: bumpity-bumpity-bumpity-splat!" Kurt illustrated, punctuating the splat with a fist into his palm. "We're way too high and going way too fast. We'd become bad bratwurst!"

"This plane has to be flying well above thirty thousand feet, not to mention travelling close to the speed of sound," Jason elaborated. "The air resistance alone would tear us apart _before_ we hit the ground."

"Then I guess we're stuck on this flight," Kitty said.

"Now the question of the hour:" Jason said. "Where the hell are we going?"

XXXXXXXXXX

Back at the Institute, the Professor had returned to his study, milling over what he had just seen inside Logan's mind. Not even three hours ago, Logan had just departed westwards, towards the western edge of Canada and deep into the Canadian Rocky Mountains, a perfect place to hide a covert base of operations. Logan had no idea what kind of hornet's nest he was about to kick; neither did the Professor for that matter. What kind of experiments had been performed on Logan?

The name "Stryker" popped back into his mind again. He was not familiar with the name, but if something of the military, national or foreign, had a special interest in an experiment of any sort, it stood to reason that a high-ranking official would be overseeing it. It would be more accurate to think that whatever a military would be interested in would have potential for warfare. A biological project with a potential that the military would show personal interest…and one product of the project was Logan, who emerged with barely a shred of his memory. Either the amnesia was chemically-induced, or the sheer trauma of the experiments was so intense that it blanked his memory. Even in an autopsy, amnesia was no teller of its origin. The only way for anyone to know where the amnesia came from would be from witnesses of its origin. If there was any record…it might be wherever the experiments happened, if they hadn't burned the place already.

If that were true already, finding this Stryker might be a clue to where the project had been shelved. The Professor rolled to his desk and accessed his computer. A quick search online revealed a numerous amount of Stryker's in the armed forces all around the world. Narrowing it down to the United States and Canadian armed forces, the list began to dwindle but there was still too close to count. Even then, anything he found wasn't anything he could work with. More than likely, this Stryker was classified.

He broadened the search back to Stryker without any other parameters, and at once got a hit. _"Hmm, Reverend William Stryker, Jr."_ he thought. As he glanced at the profile, he then remembered where the name "Stryker" had sounded familiar. He was a pastor of a small pocket of Christianity that called itself the New Puritans, although a surname had been branded to them as well: Purifiers. Their church, the Church of Faith, was headquartered in Wichita, Kansas. It was small but had been quite a thorn in the sides of mutant sympathizers. The Professor had been keeping an eye on their activities for the past few years. Despite the fact that so far that mutant-kind that not been revealed, the New Puritans had been hell-bent to make sure that their anti-mutant stance was clearly heard and received. Despite the fact that the church had no members within politics, their anti-mutant sentiment was shared heavily in the more conservative members of the government. Their loudest proponent was a man by the name of Robert Kelly, a Republican Senator from Kansas. The sentiment both frustrated and saddened the Professor; history was a saga of human suppression of change, and unless humanity itself as a species changed drastically, it was going to be a healthy cycle until the end of time.

Returning his mind back to what was in front of him, he began to wonder if Rev. Stryker had any relation to any military personnel. There was no telling when exactly the experiments were performed on Logan. Generally, the human body bore its own account in regards to its life, but Logan's uncharted healing factor completely erases any evidence of aging and scarring that would otherwise betray a person's age and life. For all the Professor know, Logan was older than he was. If the Stryker he saw in Logan's memories were a relative of Rev. Stryker, it could be a father or even a grandfather. Without a proper look at the experiments themselves, he would never be able to get a proper time-stamp. Even then, it would certainly not be enough to extrapolate an identity of this Stryker unless he was able to get his hands on the files themselves. He began to entertain the idea of sending a telepathic message to Logan to keep an eye-out for any files.

A knock on the door interrupted his concentration. Looking up, his mind scanned who was beyond the door. "Come in, Storm, Piotr."

At once the door opened. "Professor, something's wrong," Ororo said.

Piotr continued. "I had not seen Jason all day."

Perplexed, the Professor asked. "What makes you think something is wrong?"

"I look everywhere; nothing. I ask new students; nothing."

"That's not all, Professor," Ororo said. "Kurt and Kitty had not shown up for the afternoon session today with the X-Men."

That alerted the Professor. At once he scanned the entire Institute with his mind for any trace of Kurt, Kitty or Jason. He quickly came up empty. "This is troubling; all the vehicles are accounted for?"

"Nothing has been checked out of the garage," Ororo reported.

The Professor closed his eyes. Only one other vehicle had left the Institute that morning. That implied… "Storm, Piotr, meet me in the planning room. I need to use Cerebro."

"Understood, Professor."

Piotr nodded, but had to say, "Professor…I…I am concerned."

"I know you are, Piotr. Be strong; we will find them and make sure they are all right. Now, please, I must get to Cerebro. The sooner I find them, the faster we can help."

Piotr hesitated just a little more, but finally nodded one more time and left, Ororo following. The Professor turned towards his bookcase, but not before reaching over the desk and pressing an inconspicuous button nearby. The bookcase slid apart revealing a small elevator. A smaller Cerebro unit used to reside there, but with the extensive remodel with the new Cerebro Chamber in the basement, the area was retrofitted to be a direct-access elevator right to the outside of the Cerebro Chamber. Entering it, he pressed the button to descend, and then folded his hands. He hoped that the three would exercise unprecedented caution.

XXXXXXXXXX

Wolverine had left the Blackbird behind, its thrusters still smoking from the long flight to this remote location. Mt. Makenna stood tall in the distance and looking upon it brought a fresh wave of déjà vu all over him. As soon as he landed the Blackbird in a clearing, he quickly disembarked as he felt the urge to attack the three trapped in the storage room. The urges were growing more and more powerful and it took all of his mental strength to keep his hands steady.

He ran through the snowy forests, eyes open and nostrils flared. Each step crunched under his feet, and the breeze assaulted his bare arms like a thousand needles, but he kept going. There was no sign of anything out of the ordinary, and the only smells he was getting so far were from the local wildlife. Just the same, something was off about this entire place.

Before he knew it, he burst out of the forest and stood on the back of what used to be a river. Wolverine was nature-wise enough to know that this riverbed wasn't dry because of drought, but because something was damming up the river upstream. The sediment along the bank was still firm; a drought-ridden region would have been more vague. Looking upstream, he saw the dam itself. It was a rather old dam, but one built to last. Wolverine's eyes narrowed; something about the dam, just like this forest, was familiar.

His head nearly exploded with images of himself running through the snow, clad in nothing but the shredded remains of the tubing that clung to him. In a complete blood haze, all he could do was run and run. Something was following him, and his mind warred between ripping it apart and fleeing. Blood still poured out between the claws that were stuck out between his fingers on each hand, more than enough for him to pass out, but he didn't. What was he?

Wolverine picked himself off the ground, shaking his head from the fresh onslaught. It was just like the one in his nightmares. The Professor had to be right; he had to have been here before, but besides the dam, there was nothing here. He looked down at the riverbed, trying to get his bearings when he noticed something. The ground was torn up on spots as if something had gone through here repeatedly; something big and heavy…with wheels.

A twig snapped somewhere in the trees. Wolverine's claws shot out as he spun to face the source. The forest was eerily still as he waited for whatever was in the forest to reveal itself. His nostrils flared as he tried to catch even the slightest whiff of the intruder, but the wind was to his back. It hit him like a meteorite: he was out in the open, next to a ravine with the wind to his back. It was a trap!

At once, a figure leaped at him, tackling Wolverine into the riverbed. Wolverine grappled with his attacker until they both hit the bed hard, sending them flying. Wolverine recovered to see who it was more clearly. His nostrils flared as he recognized the tattered clothes and mane-like hair. "Sabretooth," he growled. "Looks like your little trip to Santa's backyard hasn't cooled you off any, bub."

Sabretooth bore his fangs and claws. "I don't know how I got there…but I'm sure you had something to do with it!" Roaring savagely, he charged. Wolverine bounded away, narrowly missing Sabretooth's claws. Wolverine spun around, swiping back but Sabretooth backed away. A swipe from Sabretooth sent Wolverine into a sunken boulder. Wiping the blood from his face, he looked up just in time to see Sabretooth rush in. He rolled away just as Sabretooth sunk his claws into the boulder. Sabretooth shook the pain out of his fingers, he clawed at Wolverine ferociously. Wolverine leaped over Sabretooth, landed on his hands and donkey-kicked Sabretooth into the boulder.

Sabretooth held his gut, roaring ferociously. Scooping up the boulder, he ripped it out of the ground and threw it at Wolverine, who rolled underneath it and smashed into Sabretooth claws first. Sabretooth fell backwards, and Wolverine quickly jammed a fist underneath the other's jaw, shooting two claws out on either side. "I've had a long day, Sabretooth. Tell me what's going on here and I'll go easy on you!"

Sabretooth grinned, showing all his teeth. "You'll find out soon, brother…"

Wolverine's eyes bulged. "What are you talking about?"

"What do you think it's about?"

Wolverine snarled, and was ready to ram the final claw up Sabretooth's head, when he suddenly got wind of a new scent. His eyes flashed in recognition and he bounded away…just seconds before a set of long claws swiped right where his head was. Wolverine rolled back to his feet and glared at the new arrival: an Oriental woman in a dark trench coat and long black hair tied back, a set of metal claws firing out of her fingers.

"Deathstrike," Wolverine growled. "I knew I'd see you again after Oklahoma City."

Lady Deathstrike sheathed her claws, just as Sabretooth climbed to his feet. "How quaint. It seems our little prodigal has finally come home."

"Enough with the crap, Oyama! Now, I want answers!"

Deathstrike flicked a strand of hair from her eyes. "To what questions, I wonder?" She charged, a murderous glint in her eyes. Wolverine ducked one swipe from her claws and deflected another swipe with a backhanded clawed one of his own. She reached back and shot forward again, claws shooting out like lightning. Wolverine ducked and with a yell, jumped and smashed one clawed fist into her chest. They both tumbled to the ground and Wolverine looked down on her.

Deathstrike only smiled coldly. "Perhaps I'm old-fashioned, but it would be more proper to ask a girl out before plunging one's hands into her breasts." With one flick on a free hand, she plunged two claws through Wolverine's side.

Wolverine stumbled back as Lady Deathstrike withdrew her claws and stood up. The wounds knitted quickly, but Wolverine soon found himself against one part of the ravine, and facing both Lady Deathstrike and Sabretooth, who were coming in for the kill.

"So…" Wolverine growled. "It takes two of you to take me down? Heh, I must be having an off-day." Wolverine shot out his claws. "But both of you know that I'm not the play-nice type."

Lady Deathstrike sniffed. "I can't stand over-confident men."

"Then step back!" Sabretooth growled. "I'll take him down myself!"

"Your funeral, bub," Wolverine replied.

There was a whisk and Wolverine suddenly felt something stab him in the nape of his neck. Growling, he reached back and pulled out the offending object: a tranquilizer dart. At once, he felt like his body was melting as he slumped to the ground. He fought it, but all he could do was turn around just to see who shot him.

"Logan! Hey, it's me! Your ol' mouthy pal, Deadpool! Remember me? Well, I shot you!"

Wolverine growled weakly in annoyance as the drug took over his senses. He lay quiet.

A man dressed in a red-and-black suit slid down into the ravine. He was covered in belts, guns and weapons. His entire face was covered in a mask that matched his suit, leaving only two eyes visible. "Wow, that was quick. Hey, I _know _this stuff was powerful, but wow! Hey, any chance I can test this on a humpback whale? That would be hilarious! Just hear it now, singing its creepy-town songs just as it falls asleep…and then dies because it can't breathe underwater! THE MORE YOU KNOW!"

Sabretooth growled. "Wilson, I didn't ask for your help."

"Well, that's good! I didn't ask for your help either. So we're all even! Now, can we move this along? I left a chimichanga in the microwave again. I'm _not_ going to clean that up again. Adamantium being the strongest? FUCK THAT! Microwave stains. That shit lasts FOREVER!"

Deathstrike held a hand to her head. "Well, Wilson, since you have the…pleasure…of taking down Wolverine yourself…you can carry him back to base."

Deadpool pulled out a piece of paper. "Hmm, nope! It doesn't say that anywhere. Sabretooth? How about you? I promise I will let you drop him as many times as you want."

Sabretooth growled and moved in on Wolverine's still form.

"JUST HOLD THE FUCK ON!" shouted Deadpool, and then blinked. "Whoa, I really _do_ scream like Nolan North. Let me try that again. AAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH! Yep, I do."

"So help me, Wilson, if you keep talking…"

"Don't get your kimono panties in a bunch, Deathstrike! The scene's almost over, so I won't have anything to say until I show up next! Oh wait, never mind, it _is_ over. Cue the X's!"

XXXXXXXXXX

Back in the clearing where the Blackbird was parked, Kitty phased through the floor of the plane and out. Looking around, she saw no sign of Logan anywhere. She knocked on the underside of the jet. "It's all clear." She reached up into the belly, and then pulled out Jason by phasing him through.

Jason wobbled, but remained standing. "I don't think I'll ever get used to that."

"Be happy you don't have to," Kitty said. Looking around again, she asked. "Like where are we?"

"Damned if I know," Jason said. "If we are planning to go on an excursion, perhaps it would be better if we put on some better gear?" He gestured towards the snow.

"All we have are the uniforms in the storage bay. I don't think we have any that would fit you…"

"Well, Scott and I are roughly the same size. I'll make do with his."

_**BAMF! **_Kurt appeared out of a flash of smoke and brimstone. Looking around, he spotted the two under the belly of the plane. "Looks like we're somewhere in Canada, a place called Alkali Lake."

"Were you able to reach the Institute?" Kitty asked.

Kurt shook his head. "_Nein_, there's something blocking the signal way out here."

Jason's brow sank. "That doesn't sound good."

"What could be blocking us way out here?" Kitty asked.

"What indeed?" Jason thought aloud. "More importantly, why would Logan come all the way out here? If he's feeling antsy, he usually just goes on his bike."

"It's like I said; he's been acting mega-weird all morning," Kitty said.

"Looks like we need to look for him," Jason said. "First things first; we'd better go in uniform."

At once, Kurt pressed a button on his wrist holographic inducer. The holograph melted away into his furry self in uniform. "Way ahead of you."

Several minutes later, Jason, Kitty and Kurt left the Blackbird behind them. Quickly, they found footprints that appeared to be human enough. Trudging through the snow—which was thankfully shallow—they kept going until they came to the edge of a riverbed. Here, the footprints disappeared as the snow apparently had already melted away in the bed.

Jason slid into the riverbed, and looked for any sign that Logan had been here. As he looked around, he noticed something about the bed itself. "Guys, get down here!"

Kurt teleported the both of them to the bottom of the bed. "What is it?"

"Look at the way the ground is torn up here," Jason pointed at the ground. "Looks like the old dirt roads back home."

"Someone drove through here?"

"Looks like it," Jason looked up. "But look, the sediment on the banks. See how layered it is?"

"So, the river had high and low points," Kurt said. "Sounds normal for a river near a dam."

"Sure, but how many riverbeds do you know double as roads in the wash basin of a dam? Any water released through the spillways would have washed away any trace of traffic."

"What's your point, Jason?" Kitty asked.

"We're not alone," Jason said. "Keep an eye out."

Kitty and Kurt looked at each other, and then back at Jason. "Who else could it be?" asked Kurt.

"Hell if I know, Kurt," Jason looked around some more, and then espied a boulder that appeared to have been thrown. "Whoa, check it out!" Jason pointed to the boulder.

"Whoa," Kurt bounded to the boulder.

Kitty looked around, and espied the earth where it appeared the boulder had originated from. "Whoa, what happened here?"

Kurt looked around the boulder, and saw something else. "Hey, there's something that looks like claw marks."

Jason crossed his arms. "A boulder seemingly tossed out of the riverbed with claw marks on it," Jason analyzed aloud. "That is too weird." Jason then glanced towards the dam. "I wonder…"

Kitty and Kurt rejoined Jason. "Looks like there was a fight here," Kurt said.

"Maybe," Jason said. "The bed's too bare to show anything concrete, but something strong heaved that boulder. The only other thing out here is that dam."

"But that dam looks like it's been there for ages," Kitty said.

"Maybe it has," Jason said. "But where there's a dam, there's an operating center to make sure the dam stays maintained. There's got to be someone there, and if not, we should be able to find out where we are and maybe even contact the Professor."

"Sounds like a good idea to me," Kitty said.

Kurt agreed as well. "Better than anything else I can come up with."

"We'd better get going then; I don't know how much light we—" Jason's eye caught something as he turned around back to the dam; something was reflecting light. He walked towards it and as the reflected light dissipated, the reflecting object came into view. Jason leaned down and picked it up. "A dart…" he thought aloud. Standing up, he turned around and held it up for the others to see. "Anyone want to guess what might have happened to Logan?"

"A tranquilizer dart?" Kitty said.

"Who would want to capture Logan? And how could they? We have all seen what he can do."

"And it's not very nice," Jason said half-heartedly, but he turned serious. "I think Logan was lured here somehow, and we just wandered into a sprung trap."

Now Kurt turned serious. "We need to find him!"

"Shouldn't we wait for backup?" Kitty asked.

"Normally, I would agree," Jason said. "But even if we are able to contact the Professor, the fastest way they can get here is about a half-mile that way." Jason pointed in the direction they had come from. "We're on our own," Jason finished somberly.

"Should we even try to contact the Professor then?" Kurt asked.

"I don't know," Jason said. "My gut is telling me we need to find Logan ASAP, but I have no idea what we are up against."

"Whatever we decide, we'd better get a move on in case whatever shot Logan with that thing might come back for round two," Kitty said.

"Excellent idea," Jason said, tossing the dart aside. "Let's get a move on."

"You sound like you're one of us now, Jason," Kurt said, smiling.

"Maybe if we all get out of here with all of our teeth and bones intact, that may actually become true," Jason quipped.

The walk was long and slow; the riverbed was rough in many spots, and many wondered what kind of vehicle could drive this rocky riverbed without shaking itself apart. It took well over half an hour before they reached the base of the dam. Looking left and right, they finally espied a way to the operations center at the top of the dam. "Well, that look longer than I hoped," Jason said, breathing hard.

"You sure we can call the Professor?" Kurt said, each word edged with doubt. "Looks abandoned."

"It was a long shot anyway," Kitty said.

Jason had to sigh. "Yeah. Perhaps we should head back to where we saw the boulder. Maybe we missed something; we should try to find Logan at least."

"Maybe we should have a look around here first," Kurt said. "Maybe that tunnel?"

"Tunnel?" Jason asked, and then turned around to see what Kurt was talking about. "Oh, that's a spillway…" Jason trailed off as if he himself didn't believe that either. "It's a rather odd looking one, though. Most spillways are on the outer surface."

"And why just the one?" Kitty reasoned.

"The spillways on most dams are flat," Jason counter-reasoned. "Its size may make up for it. This is a rather V-necked gorge. Still…" Jason drifted off again, and then made his way towards the mouth of the spillway. Kurt and Kitty looked at each other, but followed.

Jason wasn't sure what made him suspicious; perhaps it was all the evidence of a struggle they found downstream as it were, or maybe it was just some kind of intuition or instinct. He wasn't even sure why he was even doing this; he wasn't an X-Man yet, and this wasn't even a mission per se. A dutiful part of his mind told him to defer leadership; was that even a good idea? Kurt was definitely not high up in the hierarchy, and Kitty was newer than Kurt. There wasn't much of a choice between all of them.

Jason reached the mouth of the spillway, and at once noticed something. "Kurt, looks like you were on the money."

Kurt bounded around to see what Jason was implying…and found what appeared to be tire tracks of many vehicles. Kitty too saw them. "They're driving right into the spillway?"

"This is getting stranger and stranger," Jason said, peering into the darkness of the spillway. "Looks like our path is set before us…literally. Anyone have a flashlight?"

Kitty pulled one out of one of her uniform coat pockets. "They're totally standard issue."

"I wouldn't have it any other way," Jason said. "I just hope that I'm just making a bigger deal of this than what it really is."

"And if you aren't?" Kurt asked.

"Then we're fucked."

XXXXXXXXXX

In a dark laboratory, a wizened old professor was looking over the reports on their latest capture. It had taken years to track down their target, and it wasn't until a tip came in regarding the general location of Weapon X did they finally have a ripe opportunity to reel him in. It had been over thirty years since Weapon X had escaped from this very laboratory, and had evaded capture ever since then. This time, there would be no escape; Weapon X was back in the hands of its creators.

The professor adjusted his darkened glasses and allowed himself a toothy smile. "It's gratifying to know that one's own work can outlive its creator, even in the smallest details. After all this time, the chip in his brain is still active. I did such good work in those days." He sinisterly chuckled. "All this time, he had been suppressing its signals through sheer force of will. He was always a stubborn one, and that's why he was so ideal for the project. Yet, it seems will alone wasn't enough."

"Why now?" came a voice behind him.

"Oh, perhaps he got too comfortable where he holed himself up, letting his mental guard down. After years of this false sense of security, all it would take is one little catalyst to push him back over the edge…such as a little news report. Wouldn't you think so, Bigfoot?"

"Don't call me that!" growled the voice as its possessor stepped out from the shadows.

"If you say so…" the professor turned his seat around. "…Sabretooth. It's gratifying to know that Weapon X can still count on your services."

Sabretooth growled weakly. "Remember our deal…"

The professor steepled his fingers. "You will get your due once we can confirm that Weapon X is completely in our control." He stood up from his chair. "Now, let's our old colleague."

XXXXXXXXXX

Deadpool stood on front of Wolverine, who had been chained to the wall in strategic places to prevent any movement from him whatsoever. The mouthy mercenary stared intently at Wolverine as his mind worked. "Ever wonder what those X's are for?"

"_Obviously it's for a scene change, Wade…even though the last scene isn't even big enough for one page."_

"_I think it's a spaceship!" _

"_Oh, come on…"_

"_No, seriously! Look at them all lined up. It's like the lights of a flying saucer! We're going to get abducted, I tell you. Ab-duc-ted!"_

"Hey, don't fret too much! They could be a race of hot babes that have like three boobs each!"

"_Ooooh, I never thought about that. Hit me with your love beam!"_

"_If we can get on with this without another Katy Perry reference, I'll be perfectly fine."_

"Well, obviously we can't do anything until Logan wakes up."

"_Isn't it just a little sacrilegious that they chained him to the wall like he was Jesus?"_

"_SURELY THIS MAN WAS THE SON OF GOD!"_

"Well, I can always wake him up and rush things along."

"_But dude, the readers LOVE us! They've been waiting months for this chapter!"_

"I know, right? I even told the writer to not do that! Seriously, will anyone ever listen to us?"

"_Yeah, that Peeman kid. What happened to that one chapter a month bullshit?"_

"_Give him a break, you two. He's having a rough time in his life right now."_

"_Whatever. He's probably playing Pokémon right now."_

**SLAP!** Deadpool struck a hand across Logan's face, trying to wake him up, but there was no response from the captive.

"_Damn, that juice is strong! We totally should try that on a humpback whale!"_

"_Didn't that sedative come with a component that would neutralize it?"_

"Yeah, but slapping him is a lot more fun."

"_Hey! Maybe we can get an Achievement for slapping him a hundred times!"_

"_This is a fanfiction piece, not an Xbox video game."_

"That didn't stop us in that _Ultimate Spider-Man _episode." Deadpool raised his hands to slap Logan silly. "I'm doing it."

"_Rah! Rah! Rah!"_

Suddenly, Logan groaned and began to stir. "Whoop," Deadpool said. "He's waking up!"

"_Aw, damn it!"_

"Wakey wakey, Logan!" Deadpool said cheerfully. "This is your wake-up call! **HELLO!**"

Wolverine lifted his head gingerly, feeling like it was about to explode like an overripe tomato. As his eyes fluttered open, he saw a blurry blotch of red and black right in front of him. Judging by the voice, it could only be one person. "Of course it would be you!"

Deadpool gasped. "You remember me! Aww, I'm so happy to hear that! I'm telling you, Weapon X hasn't been the same without you!"

As Wolverine's vision continued to sharpen, he felt like he had heard that name before. "Weapon X?"

Deadpool drooped. "Oh, of course the writer would spring for the amnesia thing. It's not like that hasn't been done five billion times."

"_Logan has been dealing with amnesia practically since 1974."_

"The actual year or the other 1974 when he first appeared in the comics?"

Wolverine growled; he remembered enough about Deadpool to know that he was a complete nutcase, and always saying something bizarre.

"Never mind. So, what have you been to, huh, Logan, ol' pal, ol' buddy? It sucks here for me! Nobody calls me 'bub' anymore, and Sabretooth is a bed wetter!"

Almost on cue, the doors slid open, permitting the entrance of a wizened old professor and a feral-looking man. The bigger of the two looked very rueful. "One day, I will rip out your fucking tongue, Wilson…"

As the two walked up to Wolverine, Deadpool whispered to Wolverine, "He's very ashamed, you know…" And retreated away from the other two.

The professor looked up at Logan. "Despite Deadpool's idiocy, Weapon X is indeed grateful to have you back, Wolverine…or is it Logan now?"

Wolverine only growled.

"I see your temperament has not changed at all," the professor said.

"A spray bottle can fix that!" Deadpool chimed in.

The professor's face twitched slightly, but he suppressed it. "It has been so long and yet you still look the same. You've aged remarkably well…if at all. Your regenerative powers have served you well…" The professor's visage seemed to darken. "And now it's time that they serve us once again. After all, we invested a lot of time, money—"

"And pointy things!" Deadpool said.

"—and other resources into your rebirth, Wolverine."

Wolverine didn't speak right away, but merely shot the professor a glare that could have paralyzed anyone who was unfortunate to receive it. However, it seemed that the professor was immune to such intimidation. Was he just that soulless of a bastard…or was he just that experienced with him? Finally, he growled, "Who ordered it?"

"You mean the adamantium skeleton of yours?" the professor said. "I can hardly believe you haven't figured it out by now. After all, if I recall correctly, you volunteered for the procedure yourself."

"You're lying…"

"Am I?" the professor said, smiling.

"Yeah, yeah, boring dramatic stuff here. Don't I get a little credit for shooting him in the ass?" Deadpool said. He was answered by the collective glares of Sabretooth, Wolverine and the professor. "What? I did."

Turning back to Wolverine, the professor continued. "Despite your re-capture, Wolverine, our numbers have been somewhat depleted as of late. We will require you to reorganize the strike team of Weapon X with fresh blood, and I believe you know where some promising candidates reside."

Wolverine's face did not move a muscle; he had long mastered his poker face, but he still couldn't quell the shot of bile that built at that statement. _"Fucking ass; he's after the Institute. Does he know?"_ Aloud, he asked. "What makes you think I know anyone?"

The professor smiled cruelly. "There's an old saying, Wolverine: birds of a feather, flock together. Sure, you have always been the lone wolf, but despite that, you always found yourself crawling back to civilization. Guess it's only nature."

Wolverine still said nothing.

The professor wasn't fazed, which tipped Wolverine off; he had an ace in the hole. "You may stay silent for now, Logan, but you'll learn in time that even you won't be able to say no to me."

"See, Logan?" Deadpool said. "All we want is to help you find your happy place. I mean, have you seen how angry you get?" He laughed. "I'm sorry! If this doesn't work, then we need to phone Jerry Springer up and—ACK!"

Sabretooth cut Deadpool off by grabbing him by the neck, silencing his usual dribble. As Deadpool gagged, the professor continued. "You see, I've implemented a countermeasure to make sure that you will never disobey again. Sadly, it had not been effective against you while you were in a hormonal rage that one day when you escaped…" The reflective light seemed to intensify off of the professor's glasses. "…but that isn't about to happen again, isn't it?"

An electronic chirping sound emitted from the professor's lab-coat breast pocket. Robotically, the professor took the device—a communicator of sorts—and answered it. "What is it?"

A voice on the other line answered. _"Professor, we just identified three intruders coming down the spillway. They don't look like simple curiosity seekers. Transferring you the feed."_

In seconds, the professor received a live feed of three strangers, dressed rather peculiarly in black and gold…much like how Wolverine was. "Are they all mutants?"

"_Yes, all three are mutant DNA positive."_

Wolverine growled. "No…"

The professor pulled out another device and pressed a button. At once, every fiber in Wolverine's body quivered under commands coming from without. After a few vicious seconds later, the commands faded and Wolverine's body relaxed.

"I told you. I have implemented more stringent control over you. You are back with Weapon X…and here you will stay. As for your compatriots…well…we'll see if they survive the test. Cheer up, Logan…if they pass, you'll be teammates again." Turning away, the professor commanded. "Come, Bigfoot. We have a test to run."

Sabretooth growled, and promptly dropped Deadpool as he turned to follow the professor out. Deadpool picked himself up off the floor, rubbing his neck. Granted, his comparable healing factor had already reversed any injury he had, but it didn't seem to matter to Deadpool.

"_Woo! We're going to have teammates! We're going to have teammates!"_

"_Should they survive the test, that is. Given the usual severity of the professor's tests, odds aren't likely."_

"_Come on, this is a fanfic and they're three major supporting characters. As I was saying…"_

"_If they want to hear you again, they can just read your part again."_

"_Party pooper!"_

Deadpool looked up at Wolverine, who looked defeated. "Aww, buck up, Logan. You look so sad. It won't be all that bad; didn't you hear the other guy? They're major principle characters! They'll be ok!"

Wolverine looked up, not reassured. Deadpool was just spouting his usual crap.

"Besides, you're a lucky guy! Did you know that Deathstrike tried to kill you a couple times while you were out?"

Wolverine spat bitterly. "Better than me hanging here listening to you."

Deadpool ignored the shot. "I mean, she has issues, like _real_ issues. Sure, we all hate you, but she really…_really_ hates you."

"_Are you trying to convince Logan of that or the readers?"_

"Hey, do you still have that adamantium skull of yours?" Before Wolverine could answer, Deadpool whipped out a pistol and fired it point-blank at Wolverine's head. There was a loud ping as the bullet bounced off and back through Deadpool's hand.

"Ow! Damn it!"

"_Smooth move, Wade."_

Deadpool shook his hand out as the wound healed. "That looked a lot better in the movie."

XXXXXXXXXX

Alchemist, Shadowcat and Nightcrawler slowly traveled deeper into the dark spillway tunnel, the light from their flashlights the only beacons in the darkness. None spoke a word; something about this place was far too ominous. Something very strange was going on here, but they pressed on.

Finally, Shadowcat broke the silence with a whisper, which sounded a lot louder in the darkness. "This tunnel runs pretty deep for a spillway."

"You're right," Alchemist whispered back. "I'm getting a really bad feeling about this."

"Look," Nightcrawler said, just as quietly. "It's a dead end."

Their flashlights highlighted the end of the tunnel, but Alchemist pointed out. "No, just a blocked way. That's a large door. The spill gate perhaps?"

"Didn't you see all the pipes that lead into this tunnel?" Shadowcat said. "Those have to be where the water comes in."

"Good point," Alchemist conceded. "So, what is this—"

Alchemist suddenly froze; he thought he saw the faintest of red lights in his peripheral vision. Daring not to turn his head any more than necessary, he slowly shifted his eyes towards where he thought he saw the light. Sure enough, there was the smallest of red lights, unblinking. It was so faint that he would have only had seen it in the darkness. "Guys…don't make any sudden moves," he said, very quietly.

"What is it?" Nightcrawler asked, not moving.

"I see a little red light above my head and to the right. Don't look at it, don't even make a move you know it's there."

"A light?" Shadowcat asked, and then it hit her. "You mean…"

"This isn't just a spillway…this is a trap." Thinking quickly, Alchemist said. "They must have already seen us. Kurt, teleport back to the Blackbird and see if you can get the Professor. Kitty, phase into the floor and wait until the coast is clear."

"What about you?" Nightcrawler asked.

"I'll be the bait."

"What? Are you—" Shadowcat started.

Suddenly, a sound like a stone door opening to the side shattered the silence. "Go, now!" Alchemist shouted.

Nightcrawler teleported away while Shadowcat disappeared into the ground. Alchemist spun around to see a dozen armed soldiers all dressed in what looked like riot gear—sans the shields—blocking his way out. One soldier barked at Alchemist. "Don't move, mutie!"

"_They know I'm a mutant,"_ Alchemist thought. _"What did I just step in?" _Raising his hands in surrender, he said quietly. "You got me."

The soldiers kept their weapons trained on Alchemist while the one—the squad leader Alchemist guessed—took out a device. "Professor, two of the targets escaped. We have one in custody."

"_Professor?"_ Alchemist thought. _"Oh god, is this some kind of science base?"_

"Understood," said the squad leader. "Blue and Gold groups, disengage and locate the remaining targets. Green group, escort this one in." The leader turned to Alchemist. "Know this, mutie. One false move and you're a dead one. We'll know if you will try to activate your powers, whatever they are."

Alchemist was growing more and more annoyed at the use of the word _mutie_, but chose to suppress his annoyance. "Fine."

As two groups broke off from the rest, the remaining soldiers surrounded Alchemist. Alchemist tolerated the soldiers cuffing his hands to his chest, although the positioning of them piqued his curiosity. Suddenly, the large gate slowly opened nosily, permitting the guards and the captured Alchemist into the next room. Alchemist felt he shouldn't be surprised at the size of the complex the first room implied, but at the same time, the fact this was all inside a dam was mind-blowing. Despite the run-down look of the dam itself, this place was a solid science base with a full staff of scientists and even soldiers. Whether they were hired guns or not, Alchemist couldn't tell; although he hoped that they were. The alternative was far more damning.

"Well, I'm surprised that I was able to catch one like you so soon. I thought I would actually have to look for them."

A cold voice came from above. Alchemist looked up to see a wizened old man in a black lab-coat with glasses that seemed more like his eyes than actually aiding them. Alchemist felt chills as soon as he saw him; he was every inch a mad scientist. However, Alchemist put on a brave face. "You roll out quite the welcoming committee for a kid like me."

"You'll have to excuse my lack of tolerance for social graces, young man," the professor said insincerely. "I hope that doesn't bother you."

Alchemist shrugged, his bindings notwithstanding. "Doesn't bother me a bit, although I have to admit this restraining device is rather peculiar."

The professor adjusted his glasses. "In my line of work, you can never be too careful with subjects of a nature where standard restraining is inefficient."

That alone made Alchemist's blood run cold. "Fascinating. Speaking of, I don't think we've been formally introduced."

"Right to business, I see…" the scientist said. "Since you were so kind to come right to my doorstep I do feel the desire to oblige. I am Professor Thorton, the leading scientist of this facility. My specialty is human physiology and anthology."

"Experimentation of humans?" Alchemist asked scrutinizingly.

The tone wasn't lost on Professor Thorton. "My studies have always been held under the scrutinizing eye of the scientific community, but such hypocrisy won't deter me. After all, our understanding of human anatomy comes directly from dissecting human corpses."

Alchemist's gaze narrowed. "I'm not against experimenting on dead bodies if they were donated to science, but I have enough human dignity to know when to stop. I'm actually a bit of a scientist myself, not that you care."

That seemed to pique the professor's curiosity. "Indeed?"

"Chemistry and physics mainly," Alchemist said. _"If I keep this small talk going, perhaps I'll learn a few things about this place."_

"Ah, yes, the fundamental workings of the universe. I trust you also have some idealistic crusade to apply your knowledge in leading the world to a better place, hmm?"

"_I_ trust that you're going to say something condescending about it should I affirm that assumption. How about you just cut to the chase?"

The professor smiled. "I see you possess a perceptive eye as well as an impetuous nature typical of youth."

"And _you_ didn't answer my question."

The professor regarded Alchemist silently for a few moments. Finally, he said. "You are dismissed, Sergeant Clint. I don't believe this one will be trouble."

As the soldiers dispersed to a safe distance, Alchemist noted the implications of the request. The Professor was hardly the picture of health, which meant that the professor had something else up his sleeve, something that could take Alchemist out should he resist. Better play it safe for now.

The professor descended to steps to join Alchemist on the floor. "You have already stated that you have a solid knowledge of physics. Therefore, I assume you know well the First Law of Thermodynamics."

"Matter can neither be created nor destroyed," Alchemist recited. "It's also known as the Law of Conservation of Energy."

"Correct, so you should know that in order to achieve any advancement in science that there will always be a cost."

Alchemist scowled.

"You can scowl all you want, but even your scientific mind knows that is the irrefutable truth. If science is to advance at the pace we need it, we must sacrifice what is necessary to advance."

"You'll have to forgive me if I'm not nearly so objective, or in the very least, so dismissive of subjective values."

"You are young, and so that is expected. Naivety, while blissful, will be your undoing as you grow older. The sooner you cast aside such ideals, the better, young mutant."

"And just what did any of your subjects have to give up becoming what they are? Their sanity? Their freedom?"

The professor smiled darkly. "You speak as if the experiments had been forced upon them. Dear boy…they all volunteered."

Something writhed in Alchemist's soul, while the rational part of his brain told him it was a lie. Summoning all the willpower he had, he said. "That's not technically an answer."

"Quite," the professor said. "Why don't you ask one yourself?" He snapped his fingers.

For a few seconds nothing happened, but then a voice drifted down from above. "Well, if it isn't the little scrawny one with the magic touch…"

Alchemist didn't look up; he knew that voice well enough that he didn't have to. "You came from here? That explains your disposition."

"Ah, I see introductions aren't necessary," the professor said.

"You can say that," Alchemist said.

"So ask him," the professor said.

Alchemist finally looked up. "So tell me, Creed. Oh yeah, I know your name. Our mutual friend was gracious enough to tell me when we last tangled. Anyway, what did they do to you?"

Sabretooth smiled. "Not as much as you think, scrawny. My healing factor, claws and my ever handsome self are all me. Only thing I didn't have is my adamantium skeleton."

"_An adamantium skeleton?"_ Alchemist thought, then a knowing smile came across his face. _"I knew it."_ He replied aloud, "Metal bones, huh? Sounds painful."

A glint of madness crossed Sabretooth's eye. "You have no idea."

"As you see, he accepted the implant as well as any other of our subjects."

"Is that so?" Alchemist said. Closing his eyes, he continued. "An adamantium skeleton, huh? Sounds familiar. In fact, I know this one guy who is quite a fighter, and his bones are virtually unbreakable. Turns out, they're also made of metal, or rather, covered with metal. Now, it can't just be any metal. Even maraging steel can break under enough pressure, but I saw this same guy get nearly get stomped to death by one of the strongest people I have ever met. Even more significantly, this same guy took a literal-metal fist to the face. Such a punch would have shattered most bones; even maraging steel would have broken. Either his bones are made of diamond—which is theoretically possible if one could somehow rearrange the atomic bonds of the carbon in the bones—or his bones were lined with a metal so strong that they not only took the impact, but absorbed it. It would have to, otherwise the bones underneath would still break from the stress waves of the impact itself." Alchemist opened his eyes. "Adamantium, perhaps?"

The professor smiled. "I see you are also acquainted with another one of my subjects…"

"It would also explain this particular harness. A harness with the arms pinned to the hips would be more than sufficient, but as is plainly evident, my arms are pinned to my chest, my hands pointing to the bottom of my jaw." To illustrate, Alchemist opened his hands, allowing his fingertips to brush the inside of his lower mandible. "This particular acquaintance of mine has claws between his metacarpals around a foot-long. If he was in such a harness and his claws came out, they would come up right through here. Now, if his skull was covered in such a metal, he would be in little danger from attacks to his head…but a long enough blade from underneath the jaw would plunge through the pharynx, the soft palate and other soft tissues to plunge right through the brain, specifically, the region where the hypothalamus and spinal cord meet. Even the smallest injury there would be immediate death. Even with regenerative abilities and healing factors, there's no guarantee of survival. Testing would be needed to see…" Alchemist looked sly. "And even someone as unscrupulous as you wouldn't dare risk such an operation if it meant losing such a subject as Wolverine, am I right?"

The professor chuckled. "You have a firm grasp on logical reasoning as well. Such a waste…"

Alchemist's eyes narrowed into a poisonous glare. "So tell me; did Wolverine choose to have his bones coated in adamantium? And was that before or after he lost his memory?"

Now the professor glared. Despite this mutant's grasp on science and logical reasoning, he was still not willing to sacrifice his naïve notions on morals and ethics. "I do not believe I need to validate my work to you, even though your mind possesses far more quality than I would have expected from someone of your age. If you happen to withstand the tests, we may be able to refocus that to our needs."

One of Alchemist's eyebrows shot up. "What happened to 'willing test-subjects'?"

The smile returned on the professor's face. "I'm afraid that our schedule no longer permits finding willing participants, I do hope you understand."

The tone was not lost on Alchemist's part. "I certainly do." Subtly, he clicked his two hands together by the knuckles.

Before anyone could react, a blast of alchemic energy shattered the harness like glass, sending pieces in all directions. The soldiers at once trained their weapons on Alchemist, barking at him to not make any sudden moves.

"Hold your fire!" hissed the professor. "He is a valuable specimen, and I won't have him spoiled."

Alchemist brought his hands in front of him, ready to fight. "If you think I'm going to let you just take me, you are more deluded than I thought."

"I said I only want you unspoiled." The professor smiled again. "I only want you disabled." He snapped his fingers again.

Sabretooth leaped down from above, intending to squash Alchemist. Alchemist saw such a move ahead of time and had leaped backwards out of the way. Landing in a crouch, he faced Sabretooth as he slapped his hands together. "You know, I don't know about you, Sabretooth, but I'm getting a little tired of seeing your face."

Sabretooth grinned. "You'd better get used to it; you're going to be seeing it a lot." He roared and dashed at Alchemist.

Alchemist slammed a hand against the floor, and a pillar rose underneath his feet. Sabretooth smashed is face right into the pillar with a metallic ping. "Good thing you had that adamantium layer, huh?"

Sabretooth shook the pain out of his head. "You're going to wish you had one!" Sabretooth leaped up the pillar.

Alchemist leaped forward off of it in a flip, quickly clapping his hands together as he shot towards the floor. Sabretooth leaped right after him, claws and teeth bared. As soon as Alchemist hit the floor, he sprung to his hands and kicked backwards. His feet struck Sabretooth's sternum like a horse. A brief flash of alchemic power shot through Sabretooth's chest, but did no apparent damage. The blow staggered Sabretooth, and the tingling sensation he felt in his chest made him pause, remembering the last time he felt that shock. Alchemist took advantage of the pause to transmute a staff from the concrete, condensing it severely to be as hard as granite.

Sabretooth shot a sly grin at Alchemist. "Looks like the runt's been teaching you how to fight, but looks like your little magic touch is fizzling."

Alchemist cocked his head. "Is it?"

The lack of fear in the kid's voice wiped the grin from Sabretooth's face. Growling, he shot forward. Alchemist was ready; ducking down, he smashed the end of the staff into the other's sternum with all his might. There was a loud ping of metal, but Sabretooth's face wrinkled up in surprise. The two separated, and Sabretooth felt his chest, as if something was wrong with his bones. He looked up at Alchemist, who was panting from exertion. Sabretooth roared and ran at Alchemist again, but Alchemist readied his staff and threw it against Sabretooth's forehead like a javelin. As Sabretooth reeled back, Alchemist rushed in and threw his body into Sabretooth's chest in a dropkick. There was a small sound of a crack within Sabretooth as he stepped back; he felt something give in his sternum. His eyes shot open; that brat did something to his skeleton! "What did you do to me?"

Alchemist picked himself up off the ground, breathing hard. "You assumed that because your bones were coated with adamantium that you'd be safe? Not from someone who might know what adamantium is made of. Granted, I just made a guess, but judging by the sound I heard when I dropkicked you, I must have guessed something right.

"Remember how I said that even maraging steel couldn't protect the bones, even at its strongest? Metal by nature is resistant to abrasion, but metal cannot suppress kinetic energy; that's the needed property of such a covering to prevent fractures of bones. There are several physical properties of true metals, and while each metal has some variation at how well it stacks up, every metal in the world cannot suppress kinetic energy. Metals are practically the ultimate solid; transferring energy like it was nothing. Even using the hardest metal in the world would not adequately protect your bones from fracture when receiving a powerful blow."

"Adamantium is the only metal alloy that I know of with a property that can suppress kinetic energy enough to keep the bones from breaking. Scientifically, that cannot be possible for a true metallic alloy, or in the very least at the paper-thin layers around your bones. All that made me think that there must be some other substance involved with adamantium's molecular structure to suppress kinetic energy. That's when it hit me:"

"I imagine adamantium is a lot like maraging steel: nickel, cobalt, molybdenum, titanium, possibly chromium and small amounts of carbon. It's a comparatively-malleable metal that's relatively lightweight, but very strong, even in sheets. If you want metal to be strong, resistant to corrosion and shock-absorbent, you need to create a mineral that would keep most of metal's physical properties but be able to suppress kinetic energy. All of the elements I listed in maraging steel are metals…except one: carbon, arguably one of nature's strongest elements. Depending on the strength of its atomic bond, it can be as brittle as graphite or as hard as metal. At its strongest, carbon is very resistant to abrasion and non-conductive. It's also everywhere, so using it as a strengthening agent in metal alloys wouldn't be difficult."

Sabretooth was losing his patience. "Get to the point!"

Alchemist crossed his arms. "Considering how well adamantium is able to withstand the shock, I guessed that there is a higher grade of carbon in adamantium. When I kicked you that first time, I transferred the alchemic energy I had built up into my feet and transferred it into the metal around your sternum. That particular transmutation was designed to weaken carbon bonds. When I smashed the staff into your chest, you felt something give in your chest, right? Those were stress fractures developing in your sternum. The adamantium around your sternum could no longer absorb the kinetic energy as well when I weakened the carbonic bonds. When I kicked your chest in, the fractures deepened. My theory proved right, and I was able to use it to break your sternum. That's what's your feeling now; I might have even weakened the carbonic bonds in your bones themselves. In other words, you're dealing with localized alchemically-induced osteoporosis. Even better, I can do that to every single one of your bones. With that skeleton covering, it's now much harder to set bones back so they can heal properly. If I go for your legs, I could very well make you lame, Sabretooth. That skeleton of yours is both a strength and a liability. There's equivalent exchange for you. So tell me, Sabretooth. Was it worth the trade?"

Sabretooth's eyes slowly grew as Alchemist finished his explanation. He himself had broken bones before he got the skeleton, but a quick reset before they healed made them as good as new. When he got the skeleton, the scientists promised that there would be no more bones to break. Not only the Alchemist said that was wrong, but proved it.

Suddenly, both heard a single clapping sound. Both turned to the source; it was the professor. "Well played, boy."

Alchemist narrowed his gaze, but Sabretooth spoke first. "You promised, Thorton, that these bones would make me stronger than the runt!"

"And they would, but even I didn't foresee anyone having not only the scientific knowledge to deduce the molecular structure of adamantium—however partially—but also possess the ability to use it to his advantage as well as this one." The professor pulled out a peculiar device. Alchemist could see it was some kind of controller. "Even you should have known that there's no such thing as a perfect fix."

"Why you—" Sabretooth lunged at the professor, but stopped dead as he felt his head explode inside. He fell to the ground, gripping his head and writhing like a beheaded snake.

Alchemist looked at Sabretooth with fascinated horror, while the professor didn't seem fazed. "As you see, I implanted the same restraining mechanism in your brain as the one in Wolverine's head. I placed it there as you were healing from the adamantium procedure."

"It's scary at how I'm not surprised at hearing that," Alchemist said bitterly, crossing his arms.

"And since you have just discovered a potentially crippling weakness in the procedure, I'm sure your insight will be helpful. Of course, that would depend on how well you fair in the next test."

Alchemist's eyes narrowed poisonously. "Get bent, old man."

"I expected as much," the professor said. "Children like you have so much to learn." Looking away, he snapped his fingers again.

Alchemist heard the clicks of guns engaging behind him. Quickly, he uncrossed his arms and brought his fists together. The floor beneath him rose up, just as the soldiers fired tranquilizer darts, which shattered harmlessly against the concrete. Alchemist leaped up, grabbing the steel guard rails and pulled himself over as the guards fired at him. Rolling back to his feet, he took off down the hall, as he heard the professor. "After him, you fools! Contain the facility!"

Alchemist didn't know where he was going, but he needed to disappear into the facility and fast. He turned wildly, at each turn he found, feeling his ribs start to smart. He had felt them begin to hurt during the fight with Sabretooth. _"Damn it, not now!"_

He saw a door slowly slide shut in front of him; they were trying to contain him. Running as fast as he could, he dropped to the ground and slid underneath the door, mere inches above his head. If the floor wasn't as damp as it was, he would have been crushed. As he climbed to his feet, he saw a guard spin to face him. "Hey, you!" he cried, and reached for his weapon. He didn't hesitate; Alchemist sprang forward and grabbed the guard's head and smashed it into a nearby railing, knocking him out.

As the guard slumped to the ground, Alchemist said, "Sorry about that. I know that will hurt tomorrow." Looking around the room, he saw that he was in the security room, where monitors showed whatever was going on around the facility. He looked around wildly to see if there was any group of soldiers trying to get to his area, although he couldn't tell which monitors displayed the halls he just ran down. He needed help, fast.

He frisked his uniform coat and found the communicator. "Thank you, Scott." He pressed the call button and spoke into it. "Kitty, are you there?"

There was some static, but then a voice came through. _"Jason? Are you ok?"_

"For now, but I'm trapped. I managed to get away from the guards, but I'm locked in the security room and I'm sure they know I'm here. I need you to phase in and get me out of here. We need to find Logan and get him out of here."

"_He's here?" _

"He has to be. This is where he came from."

"_What?"_

"I'll explain later. Where are you?"

"_I'm hiding in an arsenal room, I think. Lots of guns sitting around. When I phased back out, I appeared inside the dam and I made my way here. I tried talking to Kurt, but I can't reach him."_

Alchemist looked around and found a series of computers. Sitting down at one, he began running his free hand across the keyboard, trying to find a map. "I'll see if I can get Kurt. I think I'm higher up than you are; I might have a chance. Right now, just try to make your way up, and look out for guards."

"_Totally, I just about ran into this one woman with long black hair and a black trench coat. I managed to phase away before she saw me…"_

At hearing that, Alchemist's blood ran cold. Images from a night on a hospital rooftop of a woman with long black hair and fingers that could slash anything apart came surging through his mind.

"_Jason?"_

Alchemist found his voice. "You're sure what you saw?"

There was a pause. _"Uh, yeah?"_

"Did she look like she came from China or something?"

"_How did you know?"_

"Oh, god…" Alchemist felt like throwing up.

"_What's wrong? You're like freaking me out."_

Alchemist stood up. "New plan: find Logan. Forget about me right now. Find Logan and get him out of whatever he's locked in." Alchemist finally was able to pull up the map of the entire complex, and a quick scan located a series of containment units on the lowest levels beneath the laboratories. "Ok, try the containment sector at the bottom of the complex. I'll try to get Kurt on the radio."

"_What about—?"_

"Just do it!" Alchemist cried out and closed the communicator. Allowing himself a few moments to breathe, trying not to panic, he switched on the communicator. "Kurt, can you hear me?"

There was nothing but static.

"Kurt?!"

More static; for all intents and purposes, Kurt was nowhere to be found.

"Damn it!" Alchemist burst out, feeling a fresh splash of sweat on his face. He was alone for now, and at the mercy of whoever was going to be able to override the containment protocol on the door. He could hear them banging outside. His eyes flew over the monitors and he soon found one showing the guards attaching something to the door that looked like some sort of charge. His mind raced for any wild idea that might work to get him out of here. His eyes fell on the map again, and he saw that just below this room was a storage room.

Not thinking twice, he slapped his hands together and slapped them against the floor. As alchemic energy opened a hole in the ground, he suddenly heard the banging stop. They were done fixing the charge to the door. He was out of time! Finally, the hole opened big enough where he could jump down; it was twelve feet down, but right now he didn't care if it was fifty. He climbed down and slipped through, just as he heard a dull boom of a charge going off behind two feet of steel. He landed hard against the floor below, which rattled every bone in his body. Groaning, he clambered to his feet and looked around. At one he found a simple metal door. Above, he heard the guards moving the door open and finding he was not there. Alchemist ran for the door as fast as he could. He reached it as soon as he heard the guards find the hole, and tried to open it. It was locked. Undeterred, he slammed his hands against the door, one on top of the other. The blast of energy forced the door open and he stumbled through. He took off running, and he could hear the guards behind him radioing for backup and giving chase.

"_I need to hide and fast,"_ he thought. He rounded another corner and found another simple door. Desperate, he shoved it open and ran inside…to find he was in a lavatory. He stopped in his tracks, his eyes flashing open incredulously. "Seriously?!" he cried out. He thought about running back out, but he already spent a lot of time in here being puzzled. He turned around and turned off the lights. In complete darkness, he felt his way towards the back of the room and for the door to the last stall. Opening it, he clambered inside and closed the door. He stepped away from the door and his legs banged against the toilet. Silently cursing, he realized what he needed to do. He climbed onto the seat and squatted down.

The smell enough told him it hadn't been cleaned properly in quite a while, and now he was standing on it. Trying not to grimace, he mentally screamed at himself to keep still and dare not to breathe. Suddenly, the door opened. He could see the light from the halls, as well as a set of shadows. Someone was coming in. As the door shut, the lights came back on. Alchemist stopped breathing. After a few more seconds the newcomer banged on the doors, forcing them open. There were only like four doors, and Alchemist had no time to think. Finally, the guard came to his door and Alchemist felt something in his head turn on; he just jumped upwards. The door burst open, and the guard saw his target several feet off the ground. "What the—?"

But Alchemist grabbed the tops of the stall walls and kicked out at the guard's face. The guard flew against the sinks behind him. Alchemist dropped down and before the guard could recover he grabbed his head and slammed it against the adjacent wall. The guard slumped to the ground, and Alchemist ran to the door. _"Kitty, I hope you're having an easier time than I am…"_

**END OF PART ONE**

* * *

><p><em>I'm sorry, everyone! Life still won't let up on me. I have to move AGAIN, and am searching for a better job to better keep me stabilized. In addition, this has to be one of the most difficult chapters I've ever written, both in length and subject matter. It was getting so big that I decided to split it into two pieces. The second part is already well on its way to get done, but because of how intricate it's becoming, I thought a second part would do the best thing. I'm hoping to have part 2 before summer is over. Thank you all for your patience so far! Sorry for the split!<em>

"Not like we haven't heard THIS a billion times! Hey, Peeman! I start the next scene so you better finish this up before I find you and post your naked pics online!"

_"I don't think he has any, Wade."_

_"Psh, come on! Naked pics are liek all the rage from guys that are-__"_

"Whoa-ho-ho, that's enough of that. Hey, ladies readers! Call me!"


	12. Chapter 10: Bygones (Part 2)

"So I'm thinking that those X's could really in fact be nine diamonds and two halves."

"_Are we really going back to the page break?"_

"Sure!" Deadpool said. "I mean it's been like five thousand words since we saw them last."

"_When was the last time the dude managed to write that many words before a scene change?" _

"_The climax of the last chapter."_

"Well, that doesn't count. He didn't even use the diamonds in that chapter."

"_Sure took him long enough to know that the five dashes weren't working on, huh?"_

"You said it. I mean, geez, he even tried to use the HTML line on here too, and see how well _that_ turned out."

Wolverine tried to ignore Deadpool's dribble as he hung on the wall. All he was thinking about was how not only he let himself get captured, but that the ones who were stuck with him on the Blackbird were also caught as well, or at least likely were. All he could remember about this place was that he ran away from it, slicing through the claws he somehow had. He felt sickened at the kind of experiments that would be forced on them. He himself could take the abuse; they couldn't.

Suddenly, somebody darted right through the locked door on the far end: a shirt girl with her brown hair tied back, dressed in the winter-gear X-Men uniform: Shadowcat. She looked right at Wolverine. "Logan!"

Deadpool perked up, looking at Shadowcat. "Who is that?!"

Logan gritted his teeth. "Kitty, get out of here!"

Deadpool looked at Logan. "And you know her?! Come on, Logan! She's just a kid!"

"Like who are you?" Shadowcat said. "Are you a prisoner too?"

"Who, me?" Deadpool said. "No way, babycakes! The name's Deadpool! See, it rhymes with 'too cool for school', 'ain't no fool' and 'I'm the best at what I do…ool.'"

Shadowcat could only stare.

"See, I'm here to guard this guy right here, and I have orders to un-alive anyone who comes through the door that isn't on Weapon X staff. And since you came in through the door with your freaky little powers, that means I'm going to have to un-alive you."

"_Did we just reference the _Ultimate Spider-Man_ show?"_

"_Sundays at 11! Screw church and watch it." _

"Un-alive?" Shadowcat said, perplexed. "You mean 'kill'?'"

Deadpool raised his hands up in front of him. "Whoa, when you say it like that, it _does_ sound bad." Recovering, he reached behind him and pulled out his two katanas. "But yeah, I'm going to un-alive you." With a yell, he charged.

Shadowcat barely had the time to phase let alone scream as Deadpool went right through her and into the door head first. Shadowcat ran for Wolverine. "Are you all right, Logan?"

"Never mind me. Just get me down before that bozo gets back up."

"Bozo?!" Deadpool said, picking himself up and shaking his head clear. "I'm hurt, Logan! I mean, I made this suit to look like that Deathstroke guy from DC Comics!"

"_Did we just blow your mind, reader?"_

"Eww!" Deadpool said. "Why would I blow the mind reader?"

Shadowcat pulled at the chains, but they were stuck tight. "Ok, I just need to phase you out. Hold on!" Shadowcat grabbed Wolverine's ankle and concentrated.

"Hey, now!" Deadpool said, bearing his swords. "Step away from the ankle!" Yelling again, he charged.

Wolverine felt something in his skin tingle as Shadowcat phased him through the chains. Landing firmly on the ground, he shot out his claws. "Better close your eyes, half-pint." Snarling, he ducked one blade and struck with a razor-sharp upward slice to one of his forearms, cleaving it completely off.

Shrieking, Deadpool watched his arm flop to the floor, the katana clattering with it. "Aw, man! That's just not cool! I mean…wow…look at that…" Deadpool looked at the arm as it spattered blood. He looked at a nauseated Shadowcat. "Hey, ghost girl! Can you give me a hand?" Deadpool laughed. "Ah, never mind. I'll go get it. Just give me a few seconds to put myself back together."

Wolverine sniffed. "Come on, Kitty. We're springing this place. Get me through the door!"

"Oh, uh—o-ok, Logan," a pale Shadowcat said. Getting up off her feet, she and Wolverine made for the door and she managed to phase both her and Wolverine through, leaving Deadpool to realign the disks of flesh that were between his shoulder and his severed arm.

"Ok, let's see here. Let's put this one here…" As soon as he put one piece on, his flesh started knitting it back together. "Wait a minute, that doesn't feel right. What the hell?"

"_Good going, Wade. You put it on upside down!"_

"_Oh, this feels so weird. Quick, slice it back off!"_

Meanwhile, Wolverine and Shadowcat were making their way down the hall. "Where's Elf and Scarface?!" Wolverine barked.

"Kurt ported out of here before we got caught. He should be back at the jet. Jason...well…I don't know. He was in the security room but freaked out."

Wolverine snarled. "We need to find him."

Shadowcat nodded, pulling out her communicator. "Jason?"

There wasn't any response. The implication sank in faster than any injection would.

"Looks like we're carving our way out of here. Kitty, stay behind me."

Shadowcat wordlessly obeyed, and Wolverine strode forward determinedly. "Hey, do you know where you're going?"

Wolverine replied, "No, but I can tell we're underground. We're going up, and I'm going to find the bastard with the glasses. When we get high enough, phase out of here and get back to the jet. Get Chuck on the line and tell him what's going on."

"We already tried that," Shadowcat said. "There's some kind on interference out here that prevents signal leaving. We can't even get a message to Kurt, who's somewhere outside this place."

Wolverine's eyes narrowed. "Then we're doing this the hard way. Keep trying to get Scarface, and stay behind me."

Shadowcat tried the communicator again. "Jason? Can you hear me?"

This time, a tired-sounding Jason finally answered. _"Kitty? Did you find Logan?"_

Wolverine spun around. "Give me that," he growled and snatched the communicator right out of Shadowcat's hand. Before she could protest, Wolverine spoke. "Scarface, where are you?"

There was the briefest of pauses on the other end. _"I'm not sure, but I know I'm on the third underground level. I got a brief look at the map of the complex. You should be on the bottom floor where the detention levels are."_

"Works for me," Wolverine said. "Where's that doctor with the glasses?"

This time, the pause was longer. _"I saw him last time on the top floor, but he could be anywhere at this point. Be careful, Logan. He has some kind of gadget that can—" _The audio feed suddenly grew silent, but then came right back. _"Shit! I got to go!" _

"Scarface!" Logan barked, but there was no response. Alchemist signed off, and if his last words were any indication, he's still on the run. "We're moving!"

"But what about Jason?"

"No time! I need to find the guy in the black coat. Let's go!" Wolverine charged away to where he guessed the nearest stairwell is.

Running behind him, Shadowcat was fighting a sick feeling in her stomach, something she started getting when she saw Wolverine slice off Deadpool's arm like it was nothing. She hadn't arrived at the Institute until early this year, so she hadn't had much of an opportunity to witness Wolverine really dig into someone. Earlier this month, she had seen Wolverine tangle with Sabretooth, but Wolverine didn't have the opportunity to slice up Sabretooth since Rogue intervened. Even then, from what Jason had said, Sabretooth also had a regenerative healing factor, and that even on the worst of days, it wasn't likely either one would die fighting each other. These people, however, didn't have healing factor, obviously, but the simple truth of the fact was that Wolverine would probably kill some of these people before getting out of here. The very thought of it sickened her.

When she decided to leave her home back in Illinois to join the Institute—and eventually the X-Men—she always hoped that whatever the X-Men would do, it wouldn't involve bloodshed. Naturally, there would be battles—she was fine with that—but actual bloodshed sickened her. She had voiced her concerns with the Professor before the summer, and the Professor himself had been honest with her, although it wasn't terribly comforting:

"_I will not lie, Kitty; I never condone violence of any kind as I believe that there is always a peaceful solution. However, you must realize that there will always be adversaries that will force a conflict and that whatever we do, we must do what we can to ensure peace; even if it means doing what we hope we would never do."_

Kitty could remember how she felt when she heard those words. Before coming to the Institute, she was the "punching bag" of many bullies, particularly of one Riley. Every school had its bully, and every school had its cliques; Riley was not only the most popular girl in school; she was also one of the meanest. Kitty can't even remember how many times Riley and one of her posse of snotty girls did something to her; being locked in her own locker was the friendliest of the pranks. She remembered how embarrassed she would always be, banging on the door until someone heard her and got her out. The day she found out she had her phasic powers, she actually fell through the door quite on accident and into Lance Alvers, who had been busy vandalizing the lockers at the time.

She always imagined getting even with her tormenters at some point, and she had even considered what she could do when Lance encouraged her to take control of her powers. She had a change of heart when Lance ended up using her to get access to test answers. Ever since then, she had been shy about using her powers to hurt someone, seriously anyway. Yet even now, she was following Wolverine, someone who was the best at what he does, and that was killing.

"Did the author totally just use that line? Lame-o!"

That quip shook Shadowcat out of her thoughts , and Wolverine shot out his claws in response, and just in time as Deadpool came swooping in out of a flash of light. Wolverine deflected each slice of Deadpool's blade with a slash of his own claws. After trading blows, Wolverine managed to trap one of Deadpool's blades between his claws, temporarily stalling the fight.

Wolverine growled. "I'd ask how the hell you got out of there, but I don't want to hear it!"

"Well, thanks for asking, Logan! Can't fall into one of those pesky plot-holes, right?" Deadpool replied, and then struck out with his other katana. Wolverine quickly blocked the second blade and kicked Deadpool away. Growling, he braced himself for a second attack. "You see, the writer had seen the Origins movie and decided that if I was to teleport, I'd better find a better way to do it. Lucky for him, I have more teleportation devices than…well…" Deadpool looked thoughtful. "Who else would have a lot of teleportation devices?"

"_You're asking us?"_

"_We barely know when the author is going to finally finish this chapter!"_

Wolverine growled. "I said I didn't want to hear it!"

Deadpool looked back at Wolverine. "And leave that plot-hole unfilled? Are you insane?"

"_You're one to talk."_

"I'm not the one who's standing in my way, Wilson. Unless you figured out a way to reattach both of your arms at the same time, I suggest you get out of the way!" Wolverine didn't give Deadpool time to consider the choice. Deadpool teleported away in a flash of red, but reappeared farther down the hall. Wolverine wasn't deterred by the teleportation in the least; his blood was racing and his muscles tensed in the hunt; there was only the kill. Snarling, he leaped after the red-and-black-garbed mercenary.

Deadpool had switched out his katanas for two UZIs, spraying the air with bullets. "Bang-bang-bang! Brought to you from the Jews with a bang-bang-bang!" he yelled over the deafening popping of his guns.

Wolverine shot down the hallway, ignoring the bullets that hammered his flesh, and leaped up and spun around with a deadly slash of claws. Deadpool retreated, but not soon enough. Wolverine's claws found their mark and spiced apart one of the guns, as well as two fingers.

Deadpool was mortified. "Hey, that was my favorite gun!"

Wolverine whirled back around, grabbed Deadpool by the throat and threw him against the wall. "All right, Wilson. Play time is over! Now I want answers!"

"Ok, ok! You want answers, I got them." Deadpool paused dramatically. "It was Mrs. White with a rope in the ballroom."

Wolverine shot out the claws in his free hand. "No more games, Wilson! Answers, now!"

Nearby, Shadowcat watched in silent horror at Wolverine's interrogation techniques. For the quickest of seconds, she remembered what she had written about Logan in her letter to her parents, particularly her belittling the reasons behind Wolverine's behavior. Alchemist's news about Wolverine having been here before also came to mind. "Logan!" she heard herself say before she could stop herself.

Wolverine froze momentarily. Deadpool quickly responded. "Hey, now! Who made Ellen Page the censor?"

Wolverine had forgotten about Shadowcat behind him while in the heat of the fight, and when he heard her speak, a forgotten part of him shot to the surface, a part that the Professor had been encouraging to come out more often: one that told him to be careful what he did around those who were watching. However, he couldn't get soft, especially not now. "Half-Pint, get out of here and find Scarface."

"I'm pretty sure he's dead, Logan," Deadpool said. "Not only merely dead, but most sincerely dead."

Shadowcat felt herself at a loss. On one hand, he had a good idea, but on the other hand, she could see the ulterior motive behind them: he didn't want her to see. "But what about you?"

"Oh, I didn't know you cared!" Deadpool said.

"Zip it, Wilson!" Wolverine growled, his claws inching closer to Deadpool's eyes. Shadowcat suppressed a shiver. "I'll be fine, now go!"

"But—"

"Go!" Wolverine snarled, causing Shadowcat to recoil. "I'm getting some answers, one way or another!"

"You'll have your answers, Logan," came a new voice. All looked further down the hall to see a wizened doctor in a black lab coat and glasses that seemed to be the eyes themselves. "But you'll wish you hadn't."

Wolverine snarled in recognition of the professor, and promptly tossed Deadpool side. "Yeah? Well, you'll regret what I'm about to do to you!" With a yell, he ran at him, claws bared.

The professor coolly pressed a button on a device he held on one hand. Wolverine took one more running step, but suddenly felt his brain explode as he collapsed to the ground. Writhing in agony, he struggled against the unseen force commanding his muscles and nerves.

"Woohoo!" Deadpool hollered. "Do another trick! Do I get to saw him in half next?"

Shadowcat on the other hand was mortified. "Stop it!" she cried out.

The professor regarded her for the first time. "Ah, I see yet another subject has so willfully entered our facility for us to study. I somehow feel that she won't be nearly as resourceful as the other one, but I can't afford to shift the wheat too much." That cruel smile returned. "See, poor girl, the one you call 'Logan' belongs to Weapon X; always has been. Now that he's back in our possession, he will do what he was meant to do:" The professor's glasses seemed to shimmer in maliciousness. "Hunt mutants. Isn't that right, Wolverine?" He turned the dial on the remote.

Wolverine squirmed even more, but suddenly stopped and slowly climbed to his feet. He then slowly turned around and fixed Shadowcat with a predatory glare.

Shadowcat was clearly unnerved. "M-Mr. Logan?"

"Bring the girl to the laboratory, Wolverine. Meanwhile, I need to round up the other subject; I do believe Deathstrike is poised to take care of that for me." With that, the professor walked away after pressing another button on the remote.

Wolverine's claws shot out, and he charged at Shadowcat. Shadowcat promptly turned and ran for her life.

Now alone, Deadpool said, "Well, I guess it's time for another scene change."

"_About time too. Seriously, author, write slower, why don't you?"_

XXXXXXXXXX

Blue Squad was making another round up and down the riverbed, looking for one of the mutants that had eluded capture. According to the footage they caught from the outside security cameras, they were looking for a mutant that looked like a dark-blue rat-like man with a long demonic-like tail, and a rather normal-looking girl roughly the same size. They were over a half-mile away from the base when they soon found the spot where Wolverine and Sabretooth brawled before Deadpool downed the former. The tracks of the three other mutants were also here as well, heading towards the base. Even if the mutants didn't go back to where they came from, finding where they did come from could find more of them. Gold Squad was doing just that while Blue Squad looked for any other sign of the mutant targets in the area. They haven't reported back to the base via comms at all during the operation out here, so they had no idea that there were several mutants running amuck, as it were. They were only focused on finding the remaining mutants.

"_Blue 2 to Blue 1, come in. Blue 2 to Blue 1. Over."_

The squad leader, Blue 1, answered. "This is Blue 1. Report, Blue 2. Over."

"_No signs of mutant activity out in our location. Request permission to investigate the trail left by the targets. Over."_

"Granted. Move ahead, we'll tail you. Over."

"_Understood, Blue 1. We will report back in once we_—" There was something that sounded like a pop sound on the other side, followed by a stifled scream. _"What the? Blue 9! Where's Blue 9?!"_

The squad leader had to compose himself immediately after the complete reversal of the mood. "Report!"

"_Blue 9…disappeared! He was there and then—"_ The pop sound came up again. _"Contact left! Blue 7 is gone! Contact verified!"_

"Hold tight, we're on our way!" Switching off the communicator, he motioned to his men. "To Blue 2's position, double time!"

The squad scrambled out of the riverbed and then deeper into the forest. Despite their training, each squad member was apprehensive about dealing with their target. It was very difficult to prepare for mutant targets since their respective powers varied so greatly. That was why there were so many sent after just one or two targets. Sometimes all it took was numbers.

When they reached the site of the last transmission, all they could find was bodies and weapons strewn about, and there was an intense stench of sulfur in the air. Shaking off the shock of seeing half of his men strewn about—as well as the stench—he barked, "Check on them, and stay alert!" As the men checked on their fallen comrades, the leader's gaze shot to and fro, searching for whatever target was fast enough to take down a half-dozen men.

"Sir!" said one of the remaining soldiers. "This one is still alive, just unconscious."

"This one too!" said another.

"Leave them; one should come to soon enough and tell us what happened."

"Yes, sir."

**BAMF!** A flash of black smoke appeared around one soldier and took him away. At once, the soldiers trained their rifles at the spot, but the smoke had already dissipated, leaving nothing behind. Another loud popping sound like a bang split the silence from above and out dropped an unconscious soldier.

At once, the squad leader saw what happened. "Be advised! Target is a teleporter!"

Seemingly driving the point home, another puff of smoke appeared beside another soldier, and a pair of tridactyl hands reached out, grabbed the soldier by his suit and twirled him around into another soldier before disappearing again with a bamf-sound. The soldiers were beside themselves as the vaporous teleporter popped in and out, taking out a soldier quite dramatically. One even found himself hanging by his belt thirty feet up a tree.

One pop after another, each soldier had either joined his comrades, or was so indisposed of that they were no longer an issue. All that remained was the squad leader and he was adamant that he wouldn't be taken down so easily. He put his back to a tree, seeing that the teleporter often attacked from behind. His eyes sharp and gun loaded, he dared the "mutie" to attack. "Come on out, mutie! You're not going to get away!"

A blast of sulfurous fumes erupted right in front of him. The sound alone disoriented the quad leader just enough for a tridactyl hand to reach out, grab him and teleport away. The next thing the leader knew was that he fell through branch after branch of probably the tallest tree in the forest. He didn't get to find out just how tall as he blacked out by the time he hit the ground.

Moments later, the flash of smoke appeared again, but this time a figure stepped out: a blue-furred creature with—in addition to his tridactyl hands—a long prehensile spear-pointed tail. His yellow eyes looked down pityingly at the man at his feet. "I'm sorry, _mein fruend_."

Nightcrawler looked across the forest and the unconscious troops he just dispatched. He watched them from the trees, making sure they didn't find the X-Jet. He tried unsuccessfully to hail the Institute, and so he opted to return to the dam and try to help the others. That's when he encountered the squad. Looking in the direction of the dam, he sighed. "Sometimes, I wish I was back in the circus," he moaned, before teleporting away.

XXXXXXXXXX

Alchemist was winded, to say the least. For the better part of an hour, he had been dodging enemy detection and pursuit, all the while hampered by aching ribs. Taking a quick breather, he kept an ear out for trouble as his eyes were taking in his surroundings. Despite several close calls, for the most part he had managed to stay out of reach of his pursuers, but it was a hallow victory in truth. He had to retreat further and further into the base, and he was now on the third basement floor. He knew that he had to backtrack very soon, or risk being trapped, but his pursuers were very good at herding their prey into a trap, and he was walking into it. The only way he surmised that he could get out of here was by charging right through the heart of them…something Logan would do.

He kept radio silence ever since he heard from Shadowcat and Wolverine. He guessed that they were a floor beneath him and were trying to climb upwards. Perhaps he could continue to fall back and rendezvous with them. Strength in numbers, right? Could they defend themselves in this nexus of hallways? They were rather narrow, and they'd be vulnerable to gunfire in the long hallways, to say nothing of stairwells with the enemy firing down from above. Too many things could go wrong, but what choice did he have? Alchemist wiped his forehead free of sweat; he was definitely going to have to step up his training after this.

Feeling that he was temporarily alone, he decided to make his way silently towards the nearest stairwell—providing he could find one. The constant running and hiding had disabled his sense of direction, and without the aid of the cartograph he saw back upstairs, he was hopelessly lost. Sitting still was just as bad as running aimlessly, however; between the two, keep moving sounded more appealing. If only his ribs didn't hurt so much…

After a few more uneventful turns, he came to a large door that hung open. Most of the doors he had come across were locked tight—he had to alchemically pry them open to make a quick getaway a couple times—so finding this one struck him as odd. He felt himself practically pulled inside by his own curiosity, despite his mind screaming to focus on the task at hand. Before he could even stop himself, he stood inside the room and his eyes nearly fell out of his head. Before him was a large room, lined wall to wall with laboratory equipment and filing cabinets. On the far side was a balcony sectioned away with observation glass, flanked on either side by staircases. Another non-sectioned observation deck ran around the perimeter of the room and over Jason's own head. What caught the Alchemist's attention though was what was right in the middle: a large glass tub, filled with what might have been clear water once upon a time, but was discolored by use. Surrounding the tub was a complex apparatus of tubes, robotic arms and syringes. Alchemist felt his stomach turn at the thought of what those were used for.

Every instinct told him to run and regroup with Wolverine and Shadowcat, but his curiosity was a very loud voice. He slowly made his way to the tub, both marveled and disgusted at the entire mechanism. There was a harsh odor that made him gag, and he assumed it came from what was still inside the tub—stasis pod he assumed. He saw that covering the top of the tub was some kind of restraint-riddled gurney, fastened to a floor that seemed to lower into the water. He looked at the syringes, and saw that bone drills were also present, sticking out like some grotesque finger on a rotary mechanism. Alchemist mind started to work. These arms drill into the subject on the gurney, and the syringes either take or inject; the latter seemed more likely if the tubes meant anything.

A blubbing sound soon caught his attention. Looking up, he saw steam rise from a basin on the far end of the pod. Working his way around, he quickly saw what made the noise: a basin filled with a soupy silvery-grey material that bubbled like lava. He could feel the heat from it four feet away. This substance had to be boiling at well over two-thousand degrees. Despite the high temperature, the substance was not emanating any light like lava would. This substance actually reminded Jason of video of pāhoehoe lava flows from volcanoes in Hawaii. It couldn't be lava though; there's no practical reason to use molten lava in a laboratory. That Professor Thorton was versed in human anatomy, not geology; this stuff had to be something else.

Looking away from the alien substance, he peered around the room for any clue of what happened in this room, and his eyes fell on a large backlit display that reminded Jason of his days in the hospital. Reinforcing the memories were large full-body X-ray readouts of what Jason assumed to be a large burly human male. His eyes combed for anything that could identify the subject, and eventually his eyes fell on the hands, where something like claws were in place of fingernails. To further emphasize what was evident, he quickly found the preliminary bio of the subject:

"Subject: Sabretooth; Name: Victor Creed," he read aloud quietly, his face wrinkling in a morbid smirk. He then noticed the bones depicted; they had a strange look to them. Normally, bones have a milky-opaque look to them on the contrast image, but these bones were highlighted rather metallically. It reminded Jason of the pictures if his own metal implants on his skull.

Jason looked back at the bubbling substance in the basin as the pieces fell into place. Sabretooth all but bragged about having adamantium-layered bones, and if these readouts were any indication, they were the post-op readouts of Sabretooth's operation. That meant only one thing: the bubbling substance was in fact molten adamantium, an indestructible alloy melted into a liquid at superhot temperatures. Apparently, the most efficient way to line surfaces with adamantium is to pour it over while melted. If the metal cools, it's unmalleable, all reinforced with carbon-enhanced abrasion resistance. _"Thank goodness carbon doesn't sublime until it reaches well over six thousand degrees," _he thought wryly.

An idea came to him as he stared at the molten alloy. This is where Sabretooth was operated on to get his bones coated with adamantium—an excruciating process to say the least, Jason assumed. If his suspicions were correct, the same process was used to bond the same alloy to Wolverine's bones God knows low long ago. Jason already knew that the professor he spoke to earlier had all but confirmed his hand in the experiments on Wolverine. Looking up, he espied the filing cabinets he had seen before. Sprinting towards them, he pulled out drawer after drawer, looking for personnel files, specifically records of the subjects of whatever project ran this place.

For a while, he found nothing, except personnel files of the staff. For a little while, he studied Professor Thorton's file, but tossed it aside after finding nothing. Another one caught his eyes titled "John Wraith"; a quick glance found him to be ex-S.H.I.E.L.D.. Another name, "William Stryker": a general with interest in using human weapons during the Gulf and Persian Wars, apparently. Jason tossed aside that file as well. "Logan…Logan…Logan…" he muttered as he kept himself focused.

Finally, he found a section labeled "Team X." Further investigation indicated that they were an elite group of CIA combat field agents that were considered to be subjects to alter their performances. _"Now we're getting somewhere…" _He discovered a list of names, and immediately found "Creed, Victor." That in itself surprised him: Sabretooth is ex-CIA? He glanced through all the other names… _"Silverfox, Kayla; Yuriko, Oyama; Nord, Christoph; Ferro, Aldo, Barrington; Arthur; Howlett, James…"_ Jason sighed, frustrated. _"Logan, where the fuck are you in these files?" _He began to wonder if his file was destroyed, but that didn't make any sense. If he was successful, they would need to keep detailed reports of the experiments for duplication. Any good scientist would keep his records so he could repeat the experiment.

Another idea hit him: Logan had selective amnesia. Maybe his amnesia was caused by something here. Perhaps the trauma of the experiments erased his memory, or it was purposefully erased. In any event, he might have forgotten his own name and had been using the first name he remembered. If that was true, then any of these files—barring the female names—might be his real name. He dove back into the files and pulled out the first one he saw.

"_Christoph Nord, alias 'Maverick'…no, that can't be him."_ Barring the codename, this man's bio had him be too tall. He was taller than Jason himself. Jason moved on to the next one. _"Aldo Berro, 'Psi-Borg,' cybernetic implants…no, definitely not."_ He moved to the next one. _"Arthur Barrington, field commander, no other alias…uh…maybe?" _Jason set it aside from the others. "James Howlett, alias—" Jason nearly dropped the file. He had to shake himself awake to continue reading. "alias…Wolverine," he managed to say out loud.

He opened the file further and found the complete bio. Each part matched Logan: the height, eye color, hair color…they all fit. His eyes flew over the rest of the bio and fell on his birthdate. Jason's eyes nearly fell out of his head. "April 9th, 1887?!" Jason's mind nearly crashed. Wolverine is over a hundred years old? Shaking himself out of his stupor, his eyes fell on an entry. _"Advanced healing factor appears to have considerably slowed his aging processes, possibly to a grinding halt. Candidate for bonding process." _The reasonable part of his mind regained control, finding the explanation quite feasible. After all, aging was just the body slowly being unable to repair itself from disease and injury at a rate needed to survive. If the healing process was put into overdrive, dying by natural causes, poison or injury was virtually impossible.

Jason turned the page and found entries on all the experiments done on him, most notably, the adamantium-bonding process down to the gory details. According to this report, Wolverine was the first one to ever go through this process. There was no record of the cause of the memory loss, but it was recognized in the report. Jason felt a wave of despair wash over him. "Decades of memories, lost because of some fucker in a lab coat." Jason gritted his teeth. "I can't leave this place standing now that I know what has been happening here. This place needs to be shut down." Jason looked at the folder in his hands. "The Professor and Logan need to see this; we'll get to the bottom of this." He slapped the folder shut.

As he did, something slid out and fell to the floor with a faint ping. Startled, Jason stepped back to see what fell, and something shown gold in the weak light. Automatically, he reached down and picked it up, and was shocked to see what it was. _"A ring?"_ The trinket was wrapped in a little plastic bag barely big enough for it. He didn't know why he opened up the bag and took out the ring—simple curiosity he supposed—but examining it was just another mystery. It was a simple gold band on the outside. Jason turned the band over in his hand, and then he spotted something. The inside of the band had an engraving. On closer inspection, Jason found that he couldn't read it; it was all in what appeared to be kanji characters from the Japanese language…or maybe it was Mandarin; Jason couldn't tell. _"Why would Logan have a ring with Japanese on it?"_

"It seems that I left the door open."

Alchemist spun around, holding the file firmly in his hand. Across the room and on the second floor stood Professor Thorton, his face still paralyzed in his emotionless visage. Alchemist scowled. "Too late for regrets, Thorton. I know everything that happened here!"

The professor's glasses shimmered as he looked down at the Alchemist. "Do you?"

Alchemist didn't say anything immediately; truthfully, the only information he had was the notes for the adamantium bonding process and two of the subjects it was used on. "I have more than enough to know that you are one sick bastard. You poured molten metal over people's bones while they were still awake! And for what, to make them stronger?! I just showed that wasn't true in the slightest. For the betterment of mankind? How exactly does making killing machines out of people benefit mankind? It's all bullshit! You did it just to prove you could!"

The professor said nothing for the briefest moments. Finally, he said, "Oh, I do have a reason, child. My reasons involve your kind: mutants. Apologists say that they are no better than anyone else; others say they are a blight on the human genome and must be cleansed. My reasons are to uncover the secret to human evolution."

Alchemist neither moved nor said anything in response.

The professor continued. "For eons, life has continually evolved to become what they are today. Before the asteroid that vanquished the dinosaurs sixty-five million years ago, life had evolved into many forms. Most species died in that cataclysm, but many still survived. The death of the dinosaurs allowed mammals to evolve beyond the size of mice, and now mammals are among the dominant classes of the animal kingdom. Only two million years ago did the first organism that would become humankind emerged, eventually evolving into the species _Homo sapiens_. Many consider that species the crowning achievement of evolution of mammals, but we scientists know better. As the world changes, so must the creatures that inhabit it, or else perish; the world always changes.

"As I'm sure you are aware, young mutant, you are hardly alone in the world with mutations such as yours. Mutants are reproducing throughout the world at an alarming pace. Who knows how many thousands exist now? Perhaps even millions. While the world's peoples and governments endlessly debate on what to do with their respective mutant populations, we scientists must study them and see for ourselves the source of their mutation and power. You doubt that my work is for the betterment of mankind, young one, but you are mistaken."

Alchemist stood patiently still throughout the professor's speech, willing himself to not buy a single part of it. "Yeah? Then you tell me, then! Why _are_ you doing this?!"

"If mutants truly are the next step of human evolution, then inevitably _Homo sapiens_ will become extinct purely by natural selection. It's been the rule of nature for eons, and that will never change, despite any apologetic arguments about co-existence. We cannot stand in the way of nature; only one species will survive."

Alchemist gritted his teeth. "This is what this was all about? You want to find the one common denominator in all of us and then wipe us all out with some sick antibody?!"

"Oh, no, dear boy. I don't wish humans to exterminate mutants…" The professor looked darkly down on the Alchemist, his smile etching further across his face. "I wish humans to join them."

Alchemist felt his entire body seemingly turn into ice at that revelation. Everything in his mind crashed like the inside of a tornado, but one thought did manage to emerge: this man was insane. "You want to do _what_?" Alchemist managed to say.

"If humanity is to survive, humanity too must evolve completely. My work is merely a means to an end, and to succeed, sacrifices are necessary. You know this…alchemist."

Alchemist scowled. "I don't know what's worse: the fact that someone can so flagrantly use the First Law of Thermodynamics to justify atrocities, or that same someone can think that I myself would be so depraved to use that excuse myself."

"Such is youth," the professor said dismissively. "But any honest adult will always know that in order to gain anything, one must take that chance from someone else. If humankind must move forward up the evolutionary chain, we must be willing to sacrifice what it takes to achieve it."

"Does that include our own humanity itself?" Alchemist said.

The professor only stared coldly at Alchemist.

"You keep talking about making sacrifices to get ahead of evolution, and that your work will allow all of humankind to proceed forward alongside 'mutant-kind', but answer me this: what have you sacrificed? And you know I'm not talking about what happened here in this very room; what have _you_ sacrificed?" Jason paused briefly. "I look at you, and I'm convinced of only one thing: I'm so fucking glad that I do what I do, because I have absolutely no desire to become like you!"

"I've had so many opportunities to take what I wanted and fuck anyone else. A few times, I even let myself cave in, but one thing I learned that if I keep taking and taking, I am losing something in return: myself. I can take and take what I want to get ahead, but I'd be just like a beast, giving into its passions. If I do end up sacrificing anything, it will be for the good of someone else, because that is the exact opposite of being a beast. Every time I do, I feel that little spark of just what it means to be human. When I see you, I don't even see a beast…I see you being already dead."

The professor had neither moved nor to all appearances even blinked as the young Alchemist stood upon his proverbial soapbox. Jason felt a bead of sweat form on his brow as he waited for the professor's inevitable retort. The professor finally turned around, his back now facing Alchemist. "It truly is a pity that a being of your raw potential not only fails to understand what I aim to accomplish, but will so flagrantly deny himself the truth to do what is necessary…" The professor began to walk away. "…such a waste."

"Hey!" Alchemist exclaimed. "I'm not done with you!"

"I'm sure I'd be more than adequate to be a distraction, boy…"

Alchemist froze as that voice slithered into his brain, bringing up memories of a spring night on a rooftop. Among many ghosts that haunted him since the night of the accident, only three things terrified him the most: one of a magnetic magnate, another of a shape-shifting psychopath…the other was this one.

Daring not to move, he said, "I'm not here to play games…you'll have to excuse me if I don't remember your name."

"No offense taken, boy," slithered the voice. Alchemist heard the distinct noise of knives unsheathing. "…I on the other hand am always in the mood for sport."

Alchemist promptly rolled to the side, and not a moment too soon. From behind, spears of finger-like chaws shot out and lanced where his head was mere seconds before. Alchemist rolled back up and spun to face his attacker: a woman of Eastern descent, coupled with long black hair tied back, a narrowed but piercing silver glare, and wearing a grey trenchcoat and boots of the same color. Alchemist's eyes snaked down the claws that shot from her fingers as if he expected them to strike again.

The woman retracted her claws, sheathing them with metalling _shing_ sounds. "But I suppose it wouldn't be very honorable of me if I didn't at least tell you who I am: Yuriko Oyama…or as I call myself, the Lady Deathstrike." Alchemist could feel her silver eyes practically bore into his own. "And I remember you quite well…Jason."

Alchemist scowled. "Charmed, I'm sure," he said. He figured that if he kept Deathstrike talking, he could come up with an idea on how to get out of the mess he just stepped into.

"Although, I do seem to recall you being a more pathetic pile of bandages and emotions…"

"I got over it," Alchemist said, deflecting the shot.

Deathstrike smiled darkly. "So you did."

"I guess I could say the same as you considering the last time I saw you, you were nearly charred to a crisp by a lightning bolt."

Deathstrike scowled, and Alchemist knew right then that he just said the _wrong_ thing. The dark smile returned. "Oh, the weather witch will pay for what she had done to me…but in lieu of her appearance, I think I can settle at least one account here and now…"

Jason tensed, ready for the first move. "And here I was beginning to think we were heading towards quite the tranquil relationship."

The smallest twinkle in Deathstrike's eyes emanated her thoughts. "Cheeky, but I'm not one for little boys…" With a twitch, her claws shot out.

Alchemist rolled to the side, and got back on his feet just in time to evade the next swipe. Deathstrike swung upwards, and Alchemist flipped backwards onto his hands, clapping his hands together into a handstand. A broad pole rose up underneath Alchemist as he rose into the air, twisting around back onto his feet. Deathstrike swiped at the transmuted pole, and with the crash the pole collapsed…but not before Alchemist flipped off with the grace of a professional Olympian.

Landing right between the claws, Alchemist struck with a fist to Deathstrike's face, and followed up with a high-kick to her midriff, forcing her back. Alchemist clapped his hands together, just as Deathstrike recovered and swiped a two-clawed attack. Alchemist ducked and slapped his hands on the floor. Deathstrike was sent flying as the floor underneath her sent her crashing into the filing cabinets. Shaking his hand out, Alchemist turned around and saw the files of Wolverine he left on a nearby set. Quickly snatching them up, he took off for the door.

Deathstrike bounded to her feet and sliced apart the warped flooring ahead of her in a flurry of claws. Espying Alchemist running with the file, her claws shot out towards his back. Alchemist heard the claws coming and twisted aside, and the file in his hand took the brunt of the slice. The file was ripped to shreds, but Deathstrike, seeing what she struck, struck again with her claws at the files again, eviscerating them to confetti.

Alchemist recovered and saw the files in a mixture of anger and dismay. "I hope you realize what you just did!"

Deathstrike merely grinned. "Oh, I think I know better than you, boy…"

Alchemist put a fist into the cup of his hands. As the alchemic energy built up his forearms, Alchemist yelled, "Then you know that you're going to pay for that!" Alchemist shot his arms forward and the very air crackled with alchemic energy, moments before a blast of superheated air fired Deathstrike across the room. Quickly, Alchemist slapped his hands together and transmuted a staff out of the steel filing cabinets, taking more than usual and compressing it to strengthen the metal.

Lady Deathstrike came surging back like a wildcat, shrieking like a harpy. Alchemist ducked one swipe and rolled away under another one. Deathstrike was not to be deterred and came in like a flood, clawing at her opponent's head and sides. Alchemist was very hard-pressed to stay out of reach, his gymnastic training barely keeping him alive. He struck back when he could, but Deathstrike was just as dangerous up close as farther away. At one point, Deathstrike had grabbed the staff and pulled him so close that he could count her eyelashes. He barely saw her free hand come up to fire the claws through his brain, but he automatically fell back on his back and flung her over. Quickly getting back on his feet, Deathstrike twisted around and recovered.

For the briefest of moments, they stared each other down, regaining their wind. "You're as slippery as an eel, boy…" Deathstrike admitted. Truth be told, she had no idea that Alchemist was this agile.

"I hope that wasn't some kind of sushi joke you're about to crack," Alchemist said. If he could buy some time to get an idea by rambling, he would ramble way.

Deathstrike extended her claws. "I think I might even miss that cheek, even when your blood runs through my fingers." She shot her claws forwards.

Alchemist barely had time to lean back, wincing as the claws passed mere millimeters above his nose. Deathstrike withdrew her claws, and Alchemist sprang back up. Deathstrike slashed again, sending Alchemist flipping backwards to avoid each claw. Alchemist ducked and side-stepped every sweeping strike and stab Deathstrike hurled at him; he knew he couldn't keep this up much longer. Ducking low, Alchemist clapped his hands together and hurled himself into Deathstrike like a panther. Both crashed into the ground, and Alchemist slapped his hands on the ground as he landed, transmuting the concrete to melt over Deathstrike sprawled arms.

Alchemist panted from the exertion and pain in his ribs, while Deathstrike scowled at him, but only briefly. "My, you don't waste any time, don't you boy?"

Alchemist had to pant a few more times. "I find myself short of time most of the time, so you'll have to excuse me for rushing things. Now perhaps you can answer me a couple of things…"

"Oh, dear boy, the fun isn't over yet."

Alchemist barely blinked when Deathstrike burst free from her concrete bonds with unforeseen strength and wrapped her arms around his head and back. Deathstrike quickly twisted around, and Alchemist cried out, surprised now that Deathstrike had now pinned her. Deathstrike slithered one hand under Alchemist's head, and with one finger traced one finger down his chest and stomach slowly and back up. "But don't worry; there will be plenty of time for pillow talk afterwards."

Alchemist watched her in silent alarm as he raised her finger away from his heart, but the claw remained poised right above it. Each breath touched the point rather painfully.

"Oh, and I wouldn't try that trick yourself, boy. It wouldn't do if the little Professor had his newest specimen…spoiled..." The cruel smiled etched herself across her face more prominently. "Although, I'm sure he will just find another…"

Alchemist's mind raced for an idea, but without being able to move his hands deftly, he couldn't perform a proper transmutation. Desperately, he reached for the staff he dropped but it was out of reach.

Deathstrike leaned in. "Now tell me, boy: where would you like your next scar?"

Alchemist's barely dared to breathe as he reached one more time. Suddenly, his fingers felt something round and small, and felt very hard. His eyes flashed as a crazy idea shot through his head. As stealthily as he could, he wrapped two fingers around whatever trinket he found and began slowly scratching the pavement.

Deathstrike had noticed Alchemist's eye as they bulged, but was a little taken aback at his lack of response. "What's the matter, boy? Cat got your tongue?"

Alchemist didn't know how he well he was hiding his idea, but he allowed himself a small smirk. "Why is it no one ever calls me by my name?"

The tone wasn't lost on Deathstrike's part. Bringing a clawed finger under Alchemist's chin, she said, "And why do you feel like that's important?"

"_Keep rambling and she won't hear the scratching."_ Aloud, Alchemist said, "Because it's annoying. I mean, God, Logan doesn't even call me by my name. Is anyone going to call me by my name on the off-chance I become the next whatever-I-would-be in this racket? Do _you_ call others by their names?"

Deathstrike's ice-grey eyes stared coldly at Alchemist's olive ones. "And why should that matter to you?"

"Perhaps I have self-esteem issues?" Alchemist finished his scratching and deftly placed a hand on his scratched work.

A bright green light lit up to their side, reeling in Deathstrike's attention. A fist of concrete jetted out and smashed into Deathstrike's face, sending her head over heels across the room. Alchemist touched the small transmutation circle he scribbled, re-transmuting the concrete back into its original form.

"But ask the Professor…," Alchemist said, getting back on his feet. "I'm working on it." He looking at the trinket that saved his life just then, and with a mild shock saw that it was the ring that was in Logan's file. By sheer luck, it had survived the file's destruction. It wasn't much, but perhaps it meant something to Logan, and might help him regain some of his lost memory.

A noise across the room brought his mind back to the present. Alchemist looked up and saw Deathstrike rise up, her claws growing longer as he rose. Her icy gaze fell on her target. "It's a shame that you will die having your problems unresolved. Such a pity."

Alchemist scooped up the staff he dropped and held it behind him, ready for the charge. "Oh, I have no plans on dying just yet. I still have a job to do."

"Then this should be all the more satisfying. I do love seeing the look of anguish on a man's face when he learns that he won't be able to finish what he started." She raised one clawed hand. "Yours should prove to be no different."

Alchemist slapped a hand over the one grasping the staff, and slapped one hand onto the ground, just as the claws shot over his head. The ground rose beneath him, taking him up to the walkways above. Alchemist saw Deathstrike swipe at him again, and back-flipped onto the walkway. Deathstrike's claws diced the transmuted platform, but narrowly missed flesh. Alchemist looked down at Deathstrike. "I can only wish to see to see your face when I bring the house down, as it were, but in my line of work, sacrifices are required. I'll live with it. Ta!" Alchemist took off down the walkway.

Deathstrike swiped at the walkway right in front of Alchemist, cleaving right through the steel beams and walkway as if it was butter. Alchemist skidded to a halt, surprised by how easy her claws sliced across galvanized steel. There was another slice of claws against steel behind him and the walkway collapsed underneath him, sending him tumbling and splashing into the central stasis pod.

Deathstrike leaped onto the pod itself and wrapped her fingers around Alchemist's throat. Alchemist nearly sucked in the fell-tasting water as the sharp talons wrapped around his neck. His hands shot to his throat, trying to pry the cold hands from his neck, but her fingers were like steel cables; cold and unyielding. Alchemist struggled as Deathstrike pushed him further and further into the pod, and he could feel the pressure in his head and chest skyrocket. He needed air now.

Opening his eyes, he grew alarmed when the face he saw wasn't Deathstrike's, but Mystique's. Then an idea came to him: he tangled with Mystique less than two months ago in a cave and in a river. Where there's a river, there's water ready to be frozen. He slapped his hands together and wrapped his hands around Deathstrike's wrist.

Deathstrike shrieked as ice lanced her wrists, ripping them out of the water. Alchemist clapped his hands together quickly and lanced Deathstrike's legs with ice. A shrieking Deathstrike rose up, trying to shake the ice off, and Alchemist brought his legs up and kicked her out of the pod. Alchemist breached the waters in the pod, drinking in the air. He knew he didn't have time to enjoy it; leaping to his feet, he climbed out of the pod and twisted himself around, just in time to see Deathstrike smash off the ice from her bleeding wrists. Thinking quickly, he transmuted a fist from the concrete, sending her across the room.

Panting, he looked around. _"This is getting me nowhere. I need to get out of here and fast, but she'll be right after me."_ Looking wildly around the room, his eyes fell on the vat of boiling adamantium. Another crazy idea popped into his head, and before he knew it, he slapped his hands together. _"Okay…nickel, cobalt, molybdenum…"_ Slapping his hands against the sides of the vat, he could feel the immense heat radiating from the metal. At once, the energy began reorganizing the melted metal, but slowly…too slowly. _"Titanium, chromium, carbon…"_

A bang distracted Alchemist enough to look up, and he could see Deathstrike clambering back onto her feet. Alchemist gritted his teeth; the transmutation was going too slow. He hadn't quite guessed correctly in regards to adamantium's elemental makeup, but it was working. What made it worse was that it took virtually all of his focus to transmute the molten adamantium. He needed more time…he needed to do something very drastic.

Right then, Deathstrike, completely restored, glowered at Alchemist. "I believe I've toyed with you long enough. Even a cat tires of playing with its food before devouring it."

Alchemist felt a chill run up his spine, but tried hard to keep his poker face. "I know they say this in the cartoons, but I really _do_ taste bad. Unless you're bulimic, you'd just throw me back right up, and I sure won't taste better the second time around."

Two of Deathstrike's claws extended. "Oh, I'm sure there are some vermin in the woods that would quite disagree."

Alchemist tensed as the staff continued to rise from the molten metal, and he could feel his poker face slipping. "Pity they're going to have to get fat on the appetizer, because I ain't sticking around to be an entrée."

Deathstrike lowered her claws. "The real pity is that you believe I'm giving you a choice."

"Oh, don't mind me; I'm just chatty."

"Quite." Deathstrike lunged at Alchemist, her arm back for the final blow. Alchemist acted without thinking; he grabbed the transmuted metal and slung it her direction. Enough molten adamantium was caught on the bottom to splatter across Deathstrike's face and chest. Alchemist's eardrums nearly ripped to shreds at Deathstrike's shrieking as molten metal burned into her flesh. Deathstrike covered her face, and Alchemist saw his chance. Bringing all of his power into a kick, his foot smashed into Deathstrike's side, and sent her into the pod. Alchemist stumbled back from the force of his own kick and fell against a control panel, his free hand landing on a conspicuously large button. The drills revved to life, and shot into the pod.

Alchemist stared mortified as the drills dug deeply into the pod, and the waters quickly turned red. As the drills continued unabated, he turned away and walked determinedly towards the door, trying to shut out the screams and the spine-tingling sounds of metal grinding against bone. He felt like throwing up, but he knew that he was by no means safe yet. Looking at the piece of adamantium he managed in his hand, he focused on the matter at hand. If there was one thing that needed to be done here, it was to destroy this facility so that no one else would suffer at the hands of a twisted scientist.

He needed to reunite with the others before even considering doing that, and he knew that the only way to go was up. "I hope Wolverine and Shadowcat are all right…Nightcrawler too…"

XXXXXXXXXX

All Shadowcat could even think of was running, running away from a crazed Wolverine. She could hear him pounding down the hall behind her, growling and panting like a wild animal. She had no idea what she could do, or if there was anything anyone could do. Only Jason and Piotr had any combat training with Logan, and that was more like a spar than anything else, not a real life-or-death battle. All she could do was phase through walls, and what good would that do?

She phased through the door in front of her, and saw that it was a staircase going upwards. She barely got up the first flight when she heard claws pry the door behind her apart. She didn't dare to look back; she kept climbing as desperately as she could. The first door she saw she phased through it, and nearly ran into someone. She had phased right through the startled soul, and it took another two seconds to realize whom she just phased through. Spinning around, she shouted. "Jason!"

A perplexed Alchemist had turned around to see what had just ran through him. "Kitty!"

"Oh my god, I'm so glad to see you!" she said tearfully.

"Me too, believe me. Listen, we need to find the others and shut this place down. This place is sick." A thought came across his mind. "Where's Logan?"

A crash from the door answered Alchemist's question. Spinning around, he saw a set of claws slice the door apart, and come running in Wolverine. Wolverine balked when his eyes laid on Alchemist, as if he didn't recognize this being in front of him, and wasn't sure if it was a threat.

Alchemist at once felt something was wrong. "Logan? What's wrong?"

Shadowcat spoke up from behind him. "That professor did something to him!"

Wolverine snarled at hearing Shadowcat, and pounced. Alchemist was so startled that he didn't see Shadowcat grab the back of his uniform. Wolverine passed right through the pair, tumbling down the hall. Alchemist couldn't even move as Wolverine tumbled right through him. He didn't have time to process what just happened as Wolverine bounded right back to his feet.

Shadowcat released Alchemist to look at Wolverine. "Mr. Logan? It's me, Kitty!" she pleaded. "Don't you remember me? What's the matter with you?"

For the first time, Wolverine faltered, although his still bore his claws very closely to Shadowcat's face. His arms trembled, as if he was fighting something that was pushing him to strike. Growling, he strained to speak. "K-Kitty?"

Alchemist moved very slowly, trying to look the least threatening as possible. "Logan…it's us…we're not going to hurt you…"

Wolverine continued to struggle against himself. Shadowcat couldn't stand it. "What's wrong with him?"

"It has to be that same neural chip that professor put into Sabretooth's head," Alchemist said. "The professor wanted to ensure that Weapon X specimens remained loyal."

That revelation reviled Shadowcat. "That's sick! What do we do?"

"Only one thing we can do right now…"

Before he could finish, Wolverine grabbed at his head and screamed. Alchemist and Shadowcat could only stare horrified as he continued to struggle. Finally, he stood tall and stared at the two darkly.

"Phase!" Alchemist shouted.

Shadowcat was so startled that she grabbed Alchemist and phased both of them through the wall, just as Wolverine pounced again. Once through, they took a moment to breathe. Shadowcat spoke first, "Now what? How are we going to get out of here?"

"Like I was going to say, there's only one thing to do. We need to shut this place down. Trust me, there's a lot more going on than what we've seen, and it's enough to make me puke."

"But how's that going to help Logan?"

"The professor has a device that sends out the signal. Destroy that, we free Logan. There's another thing I can try, but it's a little extreme. I can try to get to the power turbines and shut them down. No power, no broadcasting signal."

Shadowcat's eyes grew. "But that could destroy the base! We're built inside a dam! If you do that, there's nothing to regulate the water pressure inside the dam."

"Like I said, it's extreme. That's why I'm not doing unless it's the absolute last resort, although trust me, no one will miss this base."

Shadowcat calmed just a little bit. "What are we going to do?"

"While I'm looking for the turbine chamber, I need you to keep trying with Logan. You got through to him somehow, so I think you can do it again."

"Are you crazy?!"

"It sounds crazy, I know, but you're the most able to do this. You can phase through just about anything. Don't attack, just stay out of reach and stay calm."

"Easy for you to say."

"Kitty…" Alchemist put a hand on her shoulder. "We have to do this. We either do this or we're dead or worse. I wouldn't ask you to do this if we had another choice…and without knowing that you can do this."

Shadowcat could only stare, but deep down it touched her that Alchemist had faith in her. If only she could for herself."

"It's just you and me. We'll have to assume that Nightcrawler won't be able to help us. We have to do this." Shadowcat could see beads of sweat form on Alchemist's brow. "We _have_ to…"

Shadowcat didn't say a word for several seconds. She wished they could just call in the rest of the X-Men, but they were hours away, and the X-Jet was in the forest right now. He was right; there is no other choice. "Ok…"

"Ok, first step." Alchemist swallowed. "We have to phase right back into the hallway. We don't have time to think once in there. Be ready to move immediately. Are you ready?"

"Yeah…" Shadowcat nodded.

"We only got one chance at this, you know that, right?"

"I totally didn't need that, Jason…"

"Sorry…"

Shadowcat took Alchemist's hand. "Let's go." Shadowcat and Alchemist walked through the wall back into the hallway, only to find it empty. Both looked up and down the hallway, but couldn't see any sign of Wolverine. "He's not here."

"I don't believe that for a second…" Alchemist said, constantly looking up and down the hallway. "He can't have gotten far…"

"But where?"

Wolverine burst through a nearby door, locked eyes on both Alchemist and Shadowcat, and charged with a roar. Alchemist and Shadowcat barely had time duck as a three-clawed swipe nearly beheaded them both. Wolverine swiped downwards, causing Shadowcat and Alchemist to scatter. Wolverine looked at Shadowcat first, and jumped at her first. She rolled out of the way and got to her feet. "Go!" she cried, just as Wolverine pounced at her again.

Alchemist watched her go and took off running for the stairwell. If he remembered right, the turbines were on the second floor on the far end of the base. He needed to be fast.

Meanwhile, Shadowcat was running for her life with Wolverine hot on her tail. All she had to do was keep him busy, but she had no idea what to do except run. She didn't know how close Wolverine was behind her, but she knew she couldn't stop and look. She turned one corner and saw a set of doors right in front of her. She didn't stop; she put all of her strength into her legs and ran. In seconds, she reached the door and phased right through…and down an empty elevator shaft.

XXXXXXXXXX

It didn't take Alchemist nearly as long as he thought it would to reach the power chamber. As a matter of fact, there was no resistance. The quiet actually unnerved Alchemist at this point, but he steeled himself as walked slowly into the chamber, constantly looking around. He needed to shut down the power to the complex, and ensure that there wasn't going to be an auxiliary power supply. There was a long line of revving generators; he needed something like a control panel.

Looking around, he noticed a set of stairs leading to the second floor. What better place to put a control room than above everything for ease of monitoring? Climbing up the stairs, he ran along the guard rail until he came along a hallway, mainly empty with pillars and over-hanging spinning fans bringing in the frigid air. He kept going down the hall, until to his left he espied a line of chambers contained in glass. With all the computers, gauges and every other electronic under the sun, it was far too conspicuous to not be important. He walked up to the glass and quickly found a door. Pulling on it did nothing; it was locked. Of course it would be. He rapped the glass with his knuckles; it felt like glass, but something about the sound was off. It could be a metallic glass. He had heard of a type of glass that was developed very recently that was very crack-resistant, and it was made with metal.

Alchemist looked at the slender adamantium bar in his hand. If this facility had been able to craft a metal that could absorb shock as well as maintain structural integrity as well as this did, making glass that could do the same shouldn't be that much of a stretch. Alchemist nibbled on a knuckle thoughtfully, _"I could transmute this door open, if I knew what it could be made of. There should be some silicon oxide in the mix, but that won't be nearly enough. If I remember right, that glass I heard of has palladium in it; might have germanium, maybe even phosphorus. I could try to break down the silicon oxide…"_ He looked up at the overhead fans. _"…but those fans could be stirring up an awful lot of static electricity."_

Alchemist felt a metallic taste in his mouth; truthfully, it had been slowly building since he got this deep into the facility. Something he was very familiar with of his body was that when the atmosphere of a room was too dry, he could start tasting a weak metallic taste in the back of his mouth. At first, he thought he had been coming down with a cold back then, but he knew better. The air was so dry that it was causing his nasal membranes to crack and cause very small nosebleeds, contributing to the metallic taste. If he was tasting it now, it meant the air in here was particularly arid, and he knew dry air was a necessary component for static electricity build-up. If his transmutations ended up creating too much oxygen gas, any discharge of electricity could cause a fire.

Alchemist had to concede that transmuting the glass without knowing exactly what was in it was far too risky. He'd have to find another way to stop the generators. It didn't even have to be something big, a simple overheat of the systems would shut them down easily, assuming they had a safety built in that would prevent damage from overheating. He looked up at the fans above him; something had to be controlling those fans. If he could shut them off, the generators could overheat in minutes.

He started walking up and down the hallway, looking for anything that could shut down this room. He found himself back at the railing that overlooked the generators on the floor. Looking back down, he found that pipes ran all along the walls, connecting the generators to each other. Those had to be coolant lines; cutting the coolant supply away from the generators would overheat them too.

Looking around for any change in the quiet—the quiet was getting to him he had to admit—he climbed back down the stairs as his gaze followed the pipes, looking for valves. Just one valve should do the trick; if only he could find it.

"I'm quite surprised you managed to survive your ordeal with Deathstrike…"

Alchemist spun around to see the professor looking down from the railing. He had to mentally kick himself for not looking behind him. That kind of mistake was one that could kill him, if not another run in the Danger Room with Logan.

"…you are more resourceful than I thought, I must admit. However, you have seen far too much to allow you to live, child."

"To be honest, I'm not surprised to hear you say that, and you shouldn't be surprised to hear that I have no intentions of letting this place stand after what I saw here."

"And I'm afraid I cannot allow that. There is far more at stake here than your mind, capable as it is, knows. I will not allow my work to be destroyed by your foolish notions of morality."

Alchemist clapped his hands together. "I'd rather live with my morals than be so bankrupt of such that I can no longer see what's really at stake." He slapped a hand down on the ground, and brought the pavement underneath him to the railing. Leaping over the railing, he faced the professor. "But first things first, I'll give you a chance to hand over the device peacefully."

The professor's gaze darkened. "You leave me no choice, young man…" He flipped a few switches and dialed the knob a few inches. "You could have simply cooperated, but like an experiment that has failed to even begin, you must be terminated." He then snapped his fingers.

Two shapes stepped out of the shadows: one a burly wild-like man with long hair, and the other a more normal-looking person but clothed head-to-toe in a red-and-black body suit. Alchemist recognized Sabretooth, but the other one he couldn't tell who it was…"

"And how was _that_ for a dramatic entrance?" said the red-and-black one.

Sabretooth merely growled.

Alchemist brandished his adamantium rod, ready to move whenever anyone of them struck. "I'm not going to warn you again, professor…"

An eyebrow rose only slightly on the professor's face. "You speak pretty bravely in the face of the odds against you."

"What is this kid, some big shot hero I for some reason I don't know?" said the red-and-black

"_Wade, I got a bad feeling about this kid…"_

"You said it! For once I don't know someone in this stupid fanfic!"

Alchemist looked strangely at the rather talkative one briefly, but he had better things to do than ask questions. "Because now it's no holds barred. I usually hold myself back because I don't want to seriously hurt anyone, but the stakes are far too high to hold back." Alchemist clasped a free hand against his badge with the red-X on it, and discreetly pressed a button on it. "Now one last time, hand over the device, or I bury us all." He clapped his hand on top of his fist holding the rod.

The professor looked coldly at the impertinent Alchemist, and then he said, "Sabretooth, Deadpool…kill." He snapped his fingers.

Sabretooth got ready to pounce, as the other one said, "Strike a pose!"

Alchemist slammed the rod down into the pavement, sending a blast of alchemic energy to rock the floor, knocking them all flat as boulders seemingly rose from the ground. Deadpool got back onto his feet. "What the hell?! When did I pop into the Fullmetal Alchemist world?!"

"_You don't think…"_

"_Oh, shit! He is!"_

Despite the mask, Deadpool's eyes shot wide open as the realization finally had wormed its way through his twisted mind. He gasped rather dramatically. "YOU!"

Alchemist was so startled by Deadpool's outburst that he froze.

"You're the fan-character!"

The sheer ridiculous of the outburst snapped Alchemist out of his stupor. "I'm a what?!"

Deadpool looked away, seemingly into space. "Seriously, you punk? The very first chapter I'm in and you give me a fucking fan-character?!" He whipped out two katanas. "Not if I can help it!" He charged with a crazed yell.

Alchemist barely ducked in time as the flesh-splitting blade went above his head. He rolled away as Deadpool struck again.

"Will you stand still so I can kill you?!" Deadpool yelled.

Alchemist transmuted a pillar of concrete under Deadpool's feet, sending him into the ceiling. As Deadpool flopped to the ground, a feral roar heralded Sabretooth's approach. Alchemist grabbed the railing and hurled himself over the railing. He dropped down the lower floor, just as Sabretooth leaped onto the railing himself. Alchemist took off running towards the generators, and Sabretooth chased after him.

Alchemist weaved between the generators. He knew he couldn't face Sabretooth for very long, even with this recent discovery in weakening adamantium. He needed to buy time for Shadowcat to snap Wolverine out of his fury, and if his gamble paid off, maybe even Nightcrawler showing up. Hopefully he still had the communicator that could track the homing device he just activated. He needed to buy some time.

He got an idea. Looking around quickly, hoping the generators' noise would disguise his location, he shouted out. "You know, Sabretooth, I'm quite a bit surprised at you. I'm surprised you haven't eviscerated the professor at this point for short-changing you."

Sabretooth wasn't too far away when he heard Alchemist crowing at him. "What's it to you, kid?"

"I'm just curious, s'all." Alchemist slithered behind another generator, trying to ping Sabretooth's location. "Oh, sure, he has that device that's supposed to keep you obedient, but Wolverine managed to shake it off. He's probably on the way right now to beat you to the punch. What are you waiting for?"

There was definitely a growling sound coming from nearby. Alchemist tensed up as Sabretooth answered. "What do I care of the runt?"

Despite the passiveness of his answer, Alchemist knew that he touched a nerve. "Let me paint a picture then. The 'runt', as you put it, not only was able to shake off the impulse controls the professor put on both you and him, by sheer willpower I might add, but is now on his way here to finish things with the professor. As for you…well…you're currently batting oh for two. Sorry about it."

A snarl shot through the air. "Keep talking, pipsqueak, and I'll stuff your mouth with your own dick!"

Alchemist couldn't resist. "I'm flexible enough that I don't need you to do that for me, not that I would ever do that, mind you."

A new voice chimed in. "Denial isn't just a river in Egypt, you know…"

Alchemist spun around and saw the red-and-black form of Deadpool, sitting right on a generator. The metal rod was out and ready. "I don't know what your damage is, but you're already pissing me off."

"Oh, fanfiction authors could write books on just what my damage is. Speaking of, I had to go back like seven chapters to find out _your_ damage."

"_Uh, Wade, do you think it's wise to talk about—"_

"What the hell are you talking about?" Alchemist said. _"This guy is obviously crazy, but why would he even say that?"_

"_Don't do it, man! This is crazy, even for us!"_

"So I'm thinking, you really should have gone and got yourself some kind of TV show! Even Reed Timmer wasn't so crazy to _not_ have an armored car when _he_ intercepted!"

Alchemist's eyes flashed, and instantly his hands slapped together. "You're going to _regret that!_" Every syllable showered saliva as Alchemist slammed his hands into the generator. Deadpool jumped purely instinctually, but couldn't dodge the bolts of electricity that showered from the generator. Alchemist watched Deadpool fly across the room, finally landing with a sick crunch. A sick feeling sunk in his stomach; did he just…?

A roar split the air nearby, and Alchemist barely turned in time to see Sabretooth pounce at him and knock him down. Alchemist barely had time to breathe before Sabretooth's clawed grip wrapped itself around his throat.

Sabretooth's teeth were framed around his smiling lips as he dragged Alchemist up against the wall. "Still feeling like flapping that tongue? Or do you need someone like me to loosen it up?"

Alchemist fought to swallow as he managed to say, "I don't think it's _my_ tongue that needs to be loosened." He breathed a few more times. "Of all of us in the room, there's only one of us that really is keeping too many secrets."

Sabretooth growled as he rubbed a free claw against his prisoner's scar. "Now that you mention it, I think there's one thing you're still keeping from me. I think you owe me a scream."

Alchemist knew he was running low on time, and the building pressure in his still-healing brain was telling him that, each heart pump like drums in his ears. They were particularly loud come to think of it. That's when he heard a very familiar sound: the sound of countless air molecules slapping against each other as the space between them suddenly vanishes. "Oh, I don't think I have time for a scream."

Sabretooth growled, very annoyed that nothing seemed to shake this kid. Suddenly, there was a loud _bamf_ sound right on his back. Sabretooth roared and whipped around, dropping Alchemist. A loud blast of smoke met him as he turned, completely disorienting him. A nearby blast of smoke erupted, and out popped a blue-furred creature, wearing a uniform similar to Alchemist's.

Alchemist coughed. "Took your time, Nightcrawler."

"What can I say?" said Nightcrawler. "I got lost a couple times."

Sabretooth whipped back around, seeing Alchemist and Nightcrawler. Snarling, he crouched to pounce.

"Touch me, Sabretooth, and I'll port you two miles into the sky," Nightcrawler threatened.

"That would make for quite a landing," Alchemist quipped.

"You wouldn't dare," growled Sabretooth.

"Much like how I wouldn't dare to blow up your face?" Alchemist challenged. "You _really_ are a poor man's Wolverine, aren't you?"

That touched a nerve. Sabretooth roared and pounced. Nightcrawler grabbed Alchemist and ported away. Alchemist found himself back on the railing as they popped back out of a blast of brimstone. Nightcrawler looked at Alchemist. "What are we going to do?"

Alchemist spun around, and saw that the professor was gone. Cursing silently, he looked back at Nightcrawler. "We need to shut down the power to this place. There's a scientist here that's controlling Wolverine with some kind of impulse control device. Shutting down the power should disrupt it."

"How are we going to do that?"

"Disrupting the coolant flow should overheat the generators to trigger a power failure. After that, we need to find the professor."

"That's all fine and good," chimed in Deadpool, having since recovered from his injuries and climbed up on the railing. "but even for plot exposition, you shouldn't just say your plan where everyone else can—" Deadpool got a fist to the face from Alchemist, sending him off the ledge.

"Who in _Himmel_ was that?!" Nightcrawler exclaimed.

"As asshole," Alchemist said. "I'll explain later. We gotta move!"

Both Alchemist and Nightcrawler looked over the ledge, only to find Sabretooth prowling around, waiting for them to come down. Maybe that Deadpool was right; he should have been quieter about his plan.

There was a whoosh of air behind them, and they turned to see Deadpool seemingly materialize out of thin air, swinging around his blades. "Ok, I tried to be nice-merc, but now I'm about to be better at whatever Wolverine does!"

Alchemist and Nightcrawler looked at each other. "I'll take this one. You stay out of reach of Sabretooth." Nightcrawler nodded, as he ported away. Alchemist looked at Deadpool, brandishing his rod. "I hate to break it to you, Deadpool, but you can't really do it any better than the original, whatever you're talking about."

Deadpool shrugged. "Oh, I think I could give him a run for his money. After all, it's not like I haven't tried in the comics and cartoons. Still haven't quite done it in live-action, but I'm working on that."

Alchemist looked completely perplexed. "Have you ever talked like that to anyone else and it made sense to them?"

"Only to the readers! Now, as we were…" Deadpool charged with another slice, and Alchemist ducked under and rolled away, transmuting another pillar to send Deadpool into the ceiling. Deadpool was wise this time, and teleported away, reappearing to Alchemist's side and kicked him towards the railing. Deadpool shot forward and grabbed Alchemist by his hair and pinning a blade against his throat. "Well, that was surprisingly easy. I was sure the dude at the computer would keep me from killing you. You _are_ a fan-character after all."

Alchemist looked at Deadpool, stealthily moving his hands. "If you know so much about me, then you should know what I can do…" He quickly slapped his hands around Deadpool's blade wrist.

Deadpool shrieked as his hand blasted off his arm in a flash of green and a blast of blood. Alchemist winced as the blade toppled off of his neck, but not without leaving a shallow cut over his left trapezius muscle. Alchemist quickly pressed his advantage, twisting out of Deadpool's grip and pushing him down the nearby stairs. Alchemist put pressure on the fresh cut, as he backed away from the railing, listening to the bamfs from Nightcrawler and the growls of Sabretooth.

Feeling winded, he thought, _"Kitty, don't let me down…"_

XXXXXXXXXX

Wolverine had long-since carved open the elevator doors he chased Shadowcat through, only to find an empty elevator shaft. Looking down the shaft, every instinct ground to a halt as the implications settled in. Shadowcat had fallen down the shaft, and his sense of smell confirmed it. His hands trembled as his animalistic rage completely crumbled. He just chased a frightened fifteen-year-old girl to her death, a grisly one at that.

"Kitty," he managed weakly. His mind flashed to Kitty sitting quietly in the dining room, trying to write something on her computer as it was still nice and quiet. That was only mere hours ago, and now he was standing over where she fell. This was what he feared most: he would lose control of his animal urges and finally kill someone. That was why he sometimes left the Institute to wonder, to let his animal side cool down. Despite his best efforts, the unthinkable had happened. While he didn't directly kill her, his actions played a role. He might as well have sunk the claws in.

Wolverine roared sorrowfully, the anguish echoing up and down the shaft. He didn't want to believe it, but it was clear as day. How was he going to tell the Professor? How was he going to live with himself? He couldn't stop himself, but that did nothing to quell the pain.

Suddenly, he felt that he wasn't alone. He tensed right up, and listened. Yes, someone was right behind him. His instincts once again took over; the claws came shooting out as he twisted around with a roar. When he saw who it was, he froze. It was Shadowcat!

Shadow cat, having not only survived the fall thanks to her ability, had risen up from the ground behind Wolverine to see if she could calm him down. In retrospect, that was probably not the best decision considering his frenzied state, but she was already exhausted from the excessive phasing she had done, not to mention the jolt from falling at least thirty feet. She gasped as the claws shot out, framing her frightened face. "Mr. Logan? It's me! Kitty!"

Wolverine's arms started shaking as his mind warred between instinct and the part of his mind still in control. He half-expected for the pain to come back to tell him what to do, but it hadn't come yet.

Any sane person would have quickly taken advantage of Wolverine's freeze-up and run, but something told Shadowcat that running would be the worst thing to do. She didn't dare speak for a few seconds, and watched Wolverine freeze up. She had to be reaching him! "Mr. Logan?" she repeated, slowly reaching up for his cowl and peeling it back.

Wolverine's claws rose up very slowly as Shadowcat peeled back the cowl, but didn't strike. His growling intensified, but even Shadowcat knew that there was something different about this growling.

"It's only me, remember?" she continued, her voice shaky. Her resolve was threatening to melt away as she looked into Wolverine's bulging bloodshot eyes. "Half-pint? We had breakfast together just this morning…kinda…try to remember!"

Wolverine continued to growl and shake, but there was the slowest of eye moments that told Shadowcat she was getting through.

"Listen, whatever they did to you, you can fight it. You're tough, you can do it! You can win!"

Again, Wolverine continued to growl.

Tears began welling up in Shadowcat's eyes, her resolve almost gone, but she mustered all she had left to say, "Do you really want to hurt me, Mr. Logan?"

Those tears shot through Wolverine's mind like a lightning bolt, bypassing all barriers and instincts to the very core of his brain. At once, the trembling stopped and the growling subsided. Wolverine lowered his arms and the claws retracted. For a moment, his strength gave up and he fell to his knees. Shadowcat quickly caught him before he could fall forward, the tears flowing freely. "Logan!" she cried out. "Thank God you're ok…"

Logan opened his eyes, finding himself in Shadowcat's arms. His own hands took hers and slowly and assuringly pulled them away as he rose to his feet. Panting harshly and once again trembling, he looked at Shadowcat. "Kitty…"

Shadowcat gulped, her mouth suddenly very dry. "Logan…Jason left for the power room, looking for a way to cut the power so the professor couldn't mess with your head. He should still be there."

Wolverine's eyes bulged again and he stood erect. "Kitty, go find Scarface and Elf and get yourself out of here. Get to the jet and stay there. I'm going after the one who did this to me."

"But what about—?"

"Go, Kitty!" Wolverine asserted. "Once I'm done, I'm not leaving this place standing. Go!"

Shadowcat had a bad feeling this was going to go south really fast, but Wolverine's mind was set. She needed to find the others and get them to safety. There was no telling what Wolverine was going to do. "Ok…" she said. "Jason should still be in the power room."

Wolverine turned around and ran down the hall, Shadowcat following. Very soon, Wolverine picked up Alchemist's scent and quickly made chase. Minutes later, he came across a large door and sliced it open. Inside, he at once noticed Sabretooth chasing after something that apparently was vanishing with a blast of smoke.

Upon entering though, Sabretooth spun around and saw Wolverine at once, standing with Shadowcat. "Big mistake, runt!"

Snarling, Wolverine charged to make things quick. Before he could, a blast of smoke appeared right on his back, and Wolverine barely blinked as Sabretooth disappeared in another flash of brimstone. Wolverine and Shadowcat could only blink in surprise at the area where he was seconds before. Another flash of smoke popped up nearby and Nightcrawler sat there, fatigued but relieved. "That's one problem taken care of."

"Where did he go?" Shadowcat asked.

Nightcrawler said. "About two miles out in the woods."

Before anyone else could say anything, there was a shout of pain up top. "That was Jason!" said Shadowcat.

Wolverine was already off. He climbed up the deformed concrete Alchemist doubtlessly made. Since Sabretooth was out of the picture, it meant the kid was facing Deadpool. When he got to the top, he saw Alchemist against the wall, one arm pinned down by Deadpool's foot. Deadpool was pressing down on Alchemist with a knife dangerously close over the latter's eye. Alchemist was trying very hard to keep the blade from striking with the one hand he had free.

Deadpool, having earlier reattached his hand, was dangerously nonchalant. "Now stop struggling! I promise I will make it quick and painless!"

"_Is there such a thing as painless through the eye?"_

"_Hell if I know. I'm just wondering why I suddenly smell wet dog."_

At once, Deadpool looked up to see Wolverine diving at him, claws and teeth bared. Before he could react, Wolverine sliced off both arms to the elbow. Shrieking, Deadpool rolled back on his feet. "Again?! I couldn't get a break? Just once? Do I really have to wait until Book 4 to really—" Deadpool flew into the opposite wall when a concrete fist blasted from the floor.

Wolverine looked at a bloodied—mostly from Deadpool—Alchemist. Despite some fresh cuts to his neck, face and arm, he looked mainly all right, albeit exhausted. Alchemist panted as he put a hand against a deeper cut on his left arm. "I hate that guy…" he breathed.

Nightcrawler ported both Shadowcat and he to join Wolverine and Alchemist. Shadowcat looked at Alchemist and paled. Alchemist hurriedly said. "It's mostly his blood," he said weakly as he worked himself up to standing. "Nightcrawler, help me with my sleeve. I need to make a bandage."

Wolverine walked over to Deadpool to make sure he really was knocked out. Seeing that he was, he looked at a device clipped to the mouthy merc's belt, ripped it off and sliced it up. He was pretty sure that was Deadpool's teleporting device, although he wasn't sure why he knew that. Looking back, he saw that Alchemist had torn off an arm of the uniform coat and had transmuted it into a bandage around his arm. "Elf, port Scarface and Half-pint back to the jet. I have a little unfinished business with the doctor."

"But what about—?" Nightcrawler started to say.

Before Wolverine could interrupt, Alchemist spoke up. "Just do it, Kurt," Alchemist breathed. "I'm too exhausted to help, and I need to get back to the jet and get some first aid. Wolverine can take care of himself."

Nightcrawler and Shadowcat looked at Alchemist, then at Wolverine. Finally, Nightcrawler said. "Ok, but be careful. This might be a little bumpy."

"Noted," Alchemist said.

"Be careful, Logan…" said Shadowcat.

"Am I ever?" Wolverine said dryly. "Now port!"

Nightcrawler ported them away without another word. Now alone, Wolverine looked around at the carnage. He had to admit, those three held themselves up pretty well while he was out of control. As he stood over Alchemist, he caught a whiff of Deathstrike's smell on him. He couldn't help but be impressed; to survive against her even with a healing factor was an achievement of its own. Still, with Sabretooth gone and Deadpool out, that left Deathstrike possibly still active, not to mention all the guards possibly guarding the professor.

Wolverine took off for the doors at a run. It was time to put an end to this.

XXXXXXXXXX

Nightcrawler, Alchemist and Shadowcat reappeared in the cargo bay of the jet, where they first started out on this little adventure. Nightcrawler and Shadowcat helped Alchemist to a chair, and Shadowcat grabbed a first aid kit off the wall. Alchemist peeled off his impromptu bandage as Shadowcat broke out the supplies. "Do we have a water bottle or anything in here?" Alchemist asked.

"I don't think so," Nightcrawler said.

"Damn, I'm going to have to use some peroxide. Kitty, take a cotton ball and wet it with the peroxide. This is going to suck…"

Shadowcat handed Alchemist the wet cotton ball. "We got to help Mr. Logan…"

"I'm not arguing with that, Kitty…but we can't go in without a plan." Alchemist started dabbing the wound with the peroxide. "Son of a bitch!" he shouted.

"Looks like you'll need stitches," Nightcrawler said, his face wrinkling up slightly as he watched Alchemist painfully clean the wound.

"I know, and I'm not looking forward to more stitches…" Alchemist breathed, wincing as the caustic solution did its work. "Now the antiseptic cream…"

Shadowcat handed a tube of Neosporin to Alchemist. "But what can we do?"

"I have an idea, but it will be up to you two to carry it out," Alchemist said as he rubbed in the cream, his face twisted up in pain as his fingers probed the wound with the ointment. "The professor still has that device, and I have a suspicion that he's not even using it at full power. Should Wolverine become too much of a handful for him, he might up the power on it. Who knows? That much power could even cause Wolverine to have a stroke, and I don't know if even he could survive that."

Shadowcat paled at that, but regained her composure. "So you have a plan?"

Alchemist placed a clean pad onto the wound, and was placing surgical tape over it as he continued. "There's a security station near the main entrance of the facility. You should be able to monitor the whole facility with it, and find Logan and wherever the professor is holing up. My guess would be the central control room, wherever that is. Use that room to find Logan. There might be guards, so be ready…"

"Sounds like a plan," Nightcrawler conceded.

"There's more." Alchemist wrapped up the covered wound in gauze and bound it with surgical tape. "You need to listen very carefully on this, both of you. This facility needs to be shut down. This place was used to experiment on mutants, and these experiments were sick. You don't even want to know, but I saw some of the files. If this place continues, they'll just pick up where they left off."

"_Gott in Himmel…"_

"It gets worse. The professor said that I saw too much, and had sent Sabretooth and Deadpool to kill me. If we don't end it here, they'll likely come right after us. You two and I will probably be killed and they'll enslave everyone else."

Shadowcat listened on mortified, both by what could happen and what they might have to do. "Jason, are you saying we should…"

Alchemist looked at Shadowcat. "I'm not asking you to kill anyone, if that's what you're asking. I'm saying that the best thing that needs to happen is burying that entire place. The place is built into a dam. If the dam is breeched, it should bring the entire place down and wash it away."

"But how are we going to do that?" Nightcrawler asked.

"Wait, are we really considering breeching the dam?" Shadowcat exclaimed.

"I wish there was another choice, Kitty," Alchemist said. "If the Professor were available, he could wipe out the minds of the facility and have them wipe out all traces of Weapon X—that's what they call themselves—but without comms to call back to him, and considering that we're likely well out of range, we may not have a choice."

"Oh, man…" Nightcrawler sighed.

"Like I said, I do have a plan, but it's a rough one: both of you need to port to the security station. Once there, Shadowcat can monitor the facility while Nightcrawler can find the supplies needed to weaken the dam. I've seen the guards; they look military-trained. They have to have some C-4 somewhere stowed away. They might even have a plan to scrub the facility in the event of a security breech, and violently too. The power chamber is the biggest and likely the most structurally unsound. Planting C-4 against the far wall should put a large enough crack into the wall to create the breech. See if you can find a way to set up a timer.

"Shadowcat, once those are in place, see if you can set of an emergency evacuation. While these bastards deserve to go down with this place, I don't want blood on our hands. Once you're done, Nightcrawler, meet up with Shadowcat and go after Wolverine. Keep a mind on the timer; once they go off, you probably only have about a minute before the concrete collapses. Anyone inside will be killed instantly."

Nightcrawler and Shadowcat had to swallow. This was a major mission that Alchemist was asking to do. If this was any other time and place, they would have likely found a better way, but they were cut off from help and time was against them. "I can't believe we're doing this…" Nightcrawler said.

"You and me, both, Kurt," Alchemist said. "I really wish there was another way, but if you saw the evil in those folders, you'd feel the same way. This place is sick and needs to go down."

"Do you even know how to handle explosives?" Shadowcat said to Nightcrawler.

"Well…no."

"You're just going to have to do the best you can, Kurt," Alchemist said. "If I was able, I'd just transmute the concrete to be weaker, but even that's a bad idea since I probably wouldn't have time to get away. At least with timed C-4, you can have a chance of getting yourself and anyone else away. You could also find a detonator, which should also work."

The inevitability of the situation created cold rocks in their guts. What made it worse was that the longer they waited to decide, the more likely it would all fail. Finally, Nightcrawler nodded. "Kitty? You ready?"

Shadowcat nodded, although her resolve was definitely shaky. "Totally not, but let's go."

Alchemist sat while he put pressure on the bandage. "Good luck, you two."

"_Danke_," Nightcrawler said. He touched Shadowcat on the shoulder and he ported away.

Alchemist sat alone, watching the cloud of brimstone dissipate in front of him. It killed him that he couldn't help, but he was spent. Having run up and down the base, dispatched Deathstrike and stall both Deadpool and Sabretooth in the space of a couple hours had left him completely drained. There was also the matter of his ribs; they still hadn't quite recovered from Juggernaut's grip. Everything he did in the base jostled them beyond tolerance. Resting only made it hurt worse, but he had no choice but to just endure the pain. All he could do now was hope everything will be all right. If they failed here, they were most certainly doomed and there won't be any cavalry to come anytime soon, even if the Professor knows where they are.

XXXXXXXXXX

Wolverine was going full speed towards the control room. He got the stink of the professor and was on his trail. He followed him up back to the first floor, and the resistance by the soldiers grew. Wolverine would not slow down until he got to the professor, even as his arms dripped with sweat and his claws dripped with blood. No bullet would slow him down even as each one ripped through him. The pain and blood only goaded him on further, harder, faster…

Finally, he turned one corner and there was a dozen soldiers guarding a conspicuous door. At one the guards drew their weapons—all automatic rifles—and aimed it right at Wolverine. Wolverine's glare was like icicles, icy and sharp. Each breath fired fine mist into the air as the beast sized up his new prey. His adrenalin-fueled eyes could see each bead of sweat on the soldiers, more of them on the more unseasoned men. Shame that in a few minutes they wouldn't get to be seasoned men.

Wolverine dove into the lines like a bomb, snarling like his namesake. The hall lit up with gunfire, screams, slicing, and bloodshed. The walls were painted in blood with each swipe by Wolverine, and every shot the soldiers landed in the beast's body. The very air was choked with the smell of sulfur from each discharged weapon. Bullets had eventually shot out the overhanging lights, drenching the hall in darkness save for the light of any firing weapon.

In seconds, it was all over. Twelve mangled bodies lined the hall, and one other limped down the hallways towards the door. Wolverine's uniform hung only in bloody tatters at this point while he hobbled down the hallway. Each step dropped a bullet as each wound pushed it out as it healed, but despite his healing, each step was excruciatingly painful. He reached the door, a simple sliding door, easily penetrable with his claws. There was no waiting for him. With one swipe after another, he cut his way through the doors and stepped into a room filled with monitors and every control board one could think of.

In the middle of the dazzling display of electronics sat the professor, his hand on one control as he spun to face the intruder. "Don't make me do this, Wolverine! You're too valuable!"

Wolverine stomped into the chamber as he growled. "It's over, bub. You're going to pay for what you did!" Wolverine charged with a roar.

"I warned you!" the professor said, just as his hands spun up a dial on the control board.

At once, Wolverine's head exploded in pain, sending him to the ground. Wolverine felt the wild compulsions again shoot up and down his spine and muscles. The pain grew more and more, completely overwhelming his sense. Suddenly, something seemed to break in his head, completely numbing the pain, but something else welled up inside of him, something he didn't feel for the longest time. His eyes bulged, his muscles swelled, and his heart raced; only one thing was left inside of him…

A berserker rage.

Wolverine was back on his feet, his eyes completely wild. The professor suddenly realized what he had just unleashed, and frantically activated the security drones in the room. The drones came to life and advanced at Logan menacingly. Snarling, Wolverine dove at it and hewed its legs clean off. Other drones opened fire on him, ripping up his flesh with bullets. Wolverine didn't even slow down; one by one, the drones were destroyed by flurries of claw swipes. Finally, when the last drone was down, Wolverine looked savagely at the professor and charged. The professor could only scream as Wolverine pounced. With one swipe, it was over.

Project Weapon X had been terminated.

XXXXXXXXXX

Shadowcat had seen just about everything that transpired in the control room, including the professor's grisly demise—she had to look away actually—and now she found herself running towards the room, hoping that Wolverine had calmed down enough for them all to get out of here. Nightcrawler was planting the charges as she ran, so time wasn't on her side. She barely had enough thought to sound an evacuation code, but the sirens were going off all around the base, so it had to be working.

It took longer than she hoped, but she found the door and immediately phased herself through. Gasping, she saw the carnage firsthand, and towards the other side, she saw a trail of blood leading towards an unconscious Wolverine, his uniform completely in tatters. In the chair nearby sat the Professor. Shadowcat forced herself to look away as she walked towards Wolverine. Even Wolverine himself was an unsettling sight, but the healing was doing its work. It should be easy enough for Nightcrawler to port here and port them both back to the ship in time.

"_Kitty, I got the charges set…but we have a problem," _came Nightcrawler's voice over the comm.

Shadowcat pulled out her comm and answered. "What's wrong?"

"_I was able to set a timer, but I must have pushed something I wasn't supposed to and accidentally started them all. We only have two minutes!"_

Shadowcat almost forgot to breathe. "And you're just wasting time to tell me?! Port us out of here! I'm in the control room where we saw the professor. Get in here!"

In seconds, there was a flash of smoke as Nightcrawler came tumbling out. At once he saw the carnage. "_Was in Gottes namen?!_"

"Kurt!"

Nightcrawler snapped out of his horror and laid one hand on Shadowcat and the other on Wolverine. "Hang on!" He teleported them all away.

Had they not been turned away from the gory display, they might have noticed a computer screen reading, "EMERGENCY UPLOAD: COMPLETE."

XXXXXXXXXX

Alchemist had barely sat himself in the copilot's seat when a familiar bamf-sound from behind got his attention. Out came Nightcrawler, Shadowcat and an unconscious Wolverine, practically tumbling out. The way they came out alerted Alchemist to the idea that something went wrong. "What happened?!"

Nightcrawler bounded towards the cockpit as Shadowcat struggled to get Wolverine buckled in to a seat. "No time! We need to get out of here!"

Alchemist looked at Wolverine, then back at Nightcrawler. "Do you know how to fly this thing?"

"Kind of," Nightcrawler said. "Scott taught me some of it."

"Well, let's make it count. If we can at least get this craft to hover, we can avoid the flood."

Nightcrawler reached for the ignition switch, powering up the engines. The panels lit up as Alchemist put on a headset. Looking back, Alchemist checked on Shadowcat and Wolverine. "Hope you're buckled up back there, because we're about to haul some serious haul!"

The X-Jet lurched as it took off, and Alchemist swore he felt his kidney's sink. Suddenly, there was a dull _whomp _sound in the distance, as if something just collapsed in on itself. All froze as they heard it; it could only be one thing.

Alchemist recovered first. "Get us out of here!"

Nightcrawler snapped awake enough to grab the controls and pull the X-Jet higher. A rumbling sound continued to grow as they gained altitude. Alchemist dared to look out the window, and saw a wall of water pouring down the land, sweeping away trees and anything else in its way. Finally, the X-Jet soared well above the trees, and not a moment too soon. Water swept away their landing zone as if it never mattered. The sound of trees simply snapping from the water was like thunderclaps, and the roar of the water brought Jason back to that terrible April night.

Alchemist shut his eyes tightly and breathed hard, trying to banish the images from his mind as the noise continued to roar on beneath him. Nightcrawler noticed. "Jason?" he said carefully.

Alchemist's eyes snapped open, and his breathing slowed. He took a moment to let his brain cool off and so the spots could fade from his eyes before speaking. "I think I'm okay…let's just get home before I wig out."

Nightcrawler didn't move right away, but finally turned back to focus on flying the jet. "Do you think we did the right thing?"

Alchemist didn't move. "We did the best we could, Kurt. That's all I can say. In the very least, we got Logan back and got away in one piece. I'd call that a small victory anyway. As for any casualties on the other side…well…if you two sounded the alarm, that's all we can do."

Nightcrawler seemed to relax. "Do you think any of them will come after us?"

"I just hope they have no idea where we are. As far as I could tell, the only one of us that professor knew of was Logan. We were just a bonus. Just the same, we'd better tell the professor everything."

"I guess you're right…"

XXXXXXXXXX

Logan struggled to get his eyes open, but once he did, he felt like something went very wrong with him. His head was swimming, his muscles were drained and it felt like something was wound about his head. Reaching up, he found his head wrapped in gauze. Looking around, he saw that he was in some kind of infirmary. Sniffing the air, he found that it smelled familiar.

"Welcome back, Logan," said a voice beside him.

Logan peered over to see a bald man in a wheelchair. His mind was still cloudy, but a name rose to the surface. "Chuck?" Logan groaned. "What happened?"

"You've had quite an ordeal today," the Professor said. "Do you remember much of it?"

Logan rubbed his head. Sure enough, ever so slowly, memories were emerging from the mud in his head. Groaning, he said, "Yeah…some of it…" A thought came to him. Since he was here—undoubtedly this was the Institute Infirmary—the kids had to have gotten him back after he blacked out. "What about the kids?"

"Mainly unhurt," the Professor said. "Jason has several stitches in his arm, but he will be fine. Although, I've suggested that he abstain from team exercises until the stitches are removed."

Logan softly growled, relieved. "Good…"

"Kitty has been in here every hour checking up on you after the surgery."

"We found a small receiver on the underside of your brain," said another voice. Logan turned to see a blue-furred gorilla-like creature came in. He recognized it as Henry "Hank" McCoy, otherwise known as "Beast." "Since your skull is covered in adamantium, it was very tricky extracting it from where it sat right underneath the amygdala; very insidious, but admittedly effective."

"We kept the chip to see if we could get an idea who had this done to you. Alas, whatever leads we could find are probably underwater."

"Underwater?" Logan said, confused.

"Yes…" the Professor said. "Jason said that Kurt and Kitty set demolition charges in the dam. This caused a dam burst. The facility is needless to say destroyed."

Logan looked disappointed.

"I'm sorry, Logan. Jason did say he tried to get as much information as he could, but he was caught by Deathstrike, who destroyed the files. He did manage to salvage this though." The Professor held up a gold ring.

Confused, Logan took the ring and looked at it. Quickly, he found kanji inscribed on the inner band.

"Does it mean anything to you? Jason said he found it in a folder marked 'James Howlett'. Jason found a bio in the folder that matches your general characteristics."

Logan didn't move as he looked at the ring. His name was James Howlett? He went by just Logan for as long as he could remember.

"I'll leave you to your thoughts, Logan. Just remember, I'm always here to talk and to help." The Professor and Hank left Logan alone in the room.

Logan continued to look over the ring, and read the inscription:

ジェームズに、私の愛

Logan said the kanji out loud. "Jēmuzu ni, watashi no ai…" Logan blinked a couple more times as his mind translated the kanji. "To James, my love…"

XXXXXXXXXX

Jason lay in his room, his arm wrapped in gauze and suspended with a swing. Hank had suggested keeping the arm in a sling for a couple of days to allow the wound to heal without movement. It would be at least a week before the stitches would come out. Despite the terrifying ordeal he had just gone through in Canada, he couldn't help but laugh at the fact that he just couldn't seem to stay away from doctors. He could only imagine his life insurance premiums, provided he'd even qualify.

A knock at the door interrupted his thoughts. Raising his head, he saw Piotr at the door with a tray of food. Sitting up, Jason smiled. "You know, this is your room too, Peter. You don't have to knock."

Piotr smiled. "Yes…but I am not wanting to disturb you…"

"Peter, you're a much better sight than anything back at that base." Jason blanched. "I mean…I'm okay. Not going to wig out or anything, at least I hope…"

Piotr took the tray and put it next to Jason. "I brought food up for you. Kurt is barricading kitchen so Kitty can finish letter."

Jason laughed at the thought of Kurt keeping out the entire Institute from the kitchen. "Well, in retrospect, after today, Kitty deserves a little bit of time alone to do what she wants." Jason eyed the food. "Thanks…"

"You are welcome."

Jason reached for his dinner—a plate of leftover lasagna from lunch—and took a few bites. Piotr climbed into the bed nearby and started drawing in his sketchpad. As Jason ate, parts of today flashed back into his memory, particularly the battle with Deathstrike. About a month prior, he had talked Piotr into taking a night on the town, but not before Piotr had said something along the lines of proving his strength against Logan. His logic had been to see if he was strong enough to fight Deathstrike. Having fought Deathstrike himself one-on-one now, he felt compelled to let Piotr know. "Peter?"

Piotr looked up. "Yes?"

"Back at the base, I ran into Lady Deathstrike…"

Piotr's eyes shot wide open. At once the sketchpad was set aside as he straightened up to face Jason. "Are you ok?"

"I am now," Jason said. "But trust me; she is twisted beyond all reason. It's like she lives only to kill, testing herself against anyone strong enough, or anyone that wronged her. I just remember the talk you and I had about a month ago. Peter…I need you to promise me something…"

Piotr looked taken aback. "What is it?"

"Promise you will never go looking for her. I know you wanted to see if you were strong enough to beat her to protect your family, but she's insane. I barely survived myself; there were so many times I could have died in her hands." Jason breathed, trying to keep it together. "Just promise me you won't go looking for her…"

Piotr looked stunned. There was a time when he thought if he was strong enough, he could protect his family from anyone, even from someone like Deathstrike. Hearing a personal experience from someone he cared about, his resolve to prove himself weakened. Jason had done what he "should've" done, but instead of encouraging Piotr, he warned him away from doing something like that.

Jason continued to look expectantly at Piotr. Piotr felt the urge to comply rise within him like a tide. "I promise…"

Jason relaxed. "Thanks. I know, I probably shouldn't have put you on the spot like that, but…" Jason wiped his mouth.

Piotr recognized this as a tell that Jason was distressed. "It's okay…" he said, alarmed.

Jason breathed a few times, calming down. "Sorry…rough day…"

Piotr looked at the wrapped arm. "Did Deathstrike do that?"

Jason looked at this arm. "No, some nutjob named Deadpool did it. That place was a cesspool of crazy. I don't regret destroying it. No one else should go through what happened there. Logan did…" Jason looked remorseful. "I found a file that could have helped with his memories, but Deathstrike shredded it. It doesn't look like we'll find out more about Logan that way."

"I am sure he will be finding a way…" Piotr said.

"Yeah…"

Piotr looked at Jason, happy that he was relaxing. Still, there was one last question he had. "Jason?"

Jason looked up.

"Do you think Deathstrike is gone for good?"

Jason looked out the window, thoughtful. "Well, I left her pinned—to say the least—in the bottom floors. If she didn't make it out of there before the flood came, well, I don't see her coming back from that, healing factor be damned."

"But what if she did?" Piotr said, and then wished he didn't say that. That was something too terrible to consider.

Thankfully, Jason stayed calm, but affirmed Piotr's suspicions. "I don't even want to think about it…"

XXXXXXXXXX

_A few days later…_

Some forest engineers were inspecting the remains of a dam burst in the Canadian wilderness. Most of the rubble from the dam lay beneath the river, but a lot of it lined the banks. They had been here for the past couple of days, and hadn't found anything that might have caused the burst. Granted, this dam had been long abandoned, but anything of this magnitude had to be carefully inspected.

"Brooks, are you about done?" said one of the engineers.

"Just about, Daniels. Not looking forward to this paperwork. At least this river has enough tributaries to adequately drain the lake without severe flooding downstream."

"Probably our only lucky break." The engineer turned away. "Anyway, wrap this up so we can head back. The chief will want to decide what to do."

"I doubt it will come of anything, but you know the chief. If it's not recorded, it didn't hap—"

Suddenly, a spear-like chaw shot from the riverbank, skewering Engineer right through the heart form the back. His words died on his lips he he saw the bloodied claws shoot from his chest. Just as fast as they appeared, they shot back in. He was dead before he hit the ground.

The other engineer had looked back when he heard Brooks' words simply drop, and saw the whole thing. "Brooks!" he cried out. He had taken two steps when something climbed from the waters. For the briefest of bits, it was just a walking set of meat, bones and metal implants, but it quickly formed into the willowy form of a woman. He stared transfixed as the woman finally looked up with cold steel eyes.

The woman locked eyes with the engineer. "I'm afraid your boss isn't going to like this report…if he ever finds out that is."

Before the engineer could react, the woman reached out her hand, and the fingers shot out like claws, piercing his skull as if it was just a balloon. The woman withdrew her claws and looked down on her tatters. "Well, it seems like that boy left me quite a mess. It's rude to leave a girl like that. However, I'm not the type to get angry…" A cold grin etched across her face. "Getting even is more my style."

XXXXXXXXXX

"Woohoo! How's THAT for a chapter finish!"

"_What do you mean? He didn't explain how we got out from the dam."_

"_Psh, who cares? This is just fanfiction, not like some epic movie or something. They don't care!"_

"Hey, quiet down up there! The readers are right here! Hey, everyone! This is your favorite Merc with a Mouth, Deadpool! Now, this would be the part where that Peeman kid apologizes for taking so long to write this fucking chapter. You know, something about job switching, moving god knows how many times, blah blah blah! Well, he's so busy he couldn't even be bother writing this part at the end of each chapter! Naturally, I decided to be nice and give him a hand."

"_And the fact that he's tied up under the desk has nothing to do with it?"_

"Not at all! All the more reason to help the kid! Anyway, get ready boys and girls, because here on out, this fic is going to be about me! I'm taking over this fanfiction, and I dare you to stop me!"

_My apologies, readers, give me a second to deal with Deadpool so we can move on to the next chapter._

"Hey! How did you get untied?! That's cheat—"

_That's better. Just for that, don't expect to see Deadpool until like Book 4. Anyway, what he did say was right. I did have to move and there were job switches, but hopefully that's all done now. Anyway, thank you for sticking around as long as you have. Here's the next chapter:_

_Rogue has a strange nightmare that has the Professor concerned. Meanwhile, Kurt wonders if the dream had come from a past experience when Rogue accidentally drained him, and is eager to find out what happened to him. What happened to Kurt, and just how is Mystique tied to it all? Find out in __**Chapter 11: Mother**__._


End file.
